


in your shadow i breathed (now in your light, i...)

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Minor Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Mystery, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-17 18:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 53,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, an infamous vampire, moves to Detroit to deal with a few rogue miscreants. While investigating, Viktor meets a young professor who captivates him, and who seems to know more about the supernatural than the average human.As the mystery deepens, Viktor realizes not all is as it seems, and dark magic is involved. Viktor must find the source of the chaos and stop it before somebody gets killed -- like Professor Katsuki.





	1. tonight, i saw you

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, we're finally done! This has been quite a ride, and I'm so happy that we're finally here. This has been my distraction for several months now, and I'm so very happy with it. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you to Amarok for your brilliant art and partnership! All art and the banner were made by Amarok, and [you can check out more of his art here!](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you to moonbelowsea and merigold for your fantastic beta skills, and for helping me sort through all of my wild ideas!
> 
> Without further ado... please enjoy the story!

When the creature strikes, it is fast -- too fast for human eyes.

Like many dark and stormy nights, June 6th has been particularly humid. Detroit's skyline rises above the horizon, lightning brightening the heavy clouds beyond the gleaming buildings. Rain has already fallen from one storm passing over the city, and another one will soon follow in its wake.

In the meantime, muggy mist drifts up from the hot asphalt, trailing around the street lamps. A few of them flicker as the thunder in the distance intensifies, but the power grid holds strong, weathered from the battering it already took earlier in the night. Not even the summer storm from hell could take out the light of the city, allowing stragglers from the late evening to hurry home.

Until, one by one, each of the street lamps on First Street go out. It isn't the storm that takes them.

A woman screams, and a man begins shouting, until he is savagely cut off by a ripping noise. Horrible sounds follow the gruesome call, like an animal eating raw meat with gusto. Then, all is silent, until the lights spark and turn back on. A glimmer of blood can be seen, slowly oozing out of the shadow of an alleyway.

In the morning, the bodies are found by a young man opening up the nearby gas station. The state of their remains is a terrible sight to the bystander who stumbles over them, and later to the police. Both of the deceased had the skin of their necks ripped out by something sharp, and though there was blood at the scene of the couple's deaths, their bodies had been drained of it. 

That detail is not released to the media, though.

~*~

"Yes, Chief Eston... yes, I agree. Probably just normal gang violence. Is that what you want me to tell the press?" asks Nishigori Takeshi, tapping his pen on a pad of paper, empty of notes, with a single drawing of a leering face with fangs in the corner. He nods as he listens. "I'll do that, then. Thank you, Chief Eston." With a sigh, Nishigori hangs up the office phone and contemplates his drawing for a few moments, before he takes out his cell phone.

**To: Katsuki Yuuri**  
_No doubt about it._

**From: Katsuki Yuuri**  
_Alright... I'll send the message. Let's hope whoever they send doesn't cause any trouble..._

Nishigori snorts softly and tosses his phone in his desk with another heavy sigh. The third murder in as many weeks, and this time, the crime had two victims. The police will worry over gang disputes until the end of time, but Nishigori has a couple of friends in the mortuary who slipped a few details to him. He could read between the lines -- this crime wasn't _normal_.

Thankfully, his childhood friend is something of an expert when it comes to the supernatural.

~*~

In another part of the world, a tall man with long, shining hair neatly tied back with a red ribbon tips his head up to smile at a server as she sets a cup of coffee at his elbow. "Thank you, love," murmurs Viktor Nikiforov, winking at the girl and watching her blush. She gives him a tiny smile before hiding it behind her serving tray and hurrying back to the station where her coworkers wait with knowing grins. They burst into excited whispers about the tall, handsome stranger, and Viktor's smile widens.

At his feet sits a large standard poodle with soft brown curls and warm brown eyes. She whines a little, and Viktor reaches down to pat her head, stroking her long ears until she leans against his leg. 

Viktor lifts his cup, admiring the little flower art the girl left in the foam, and sips slowly, turning his eyes to the Parisian skyline. A storm is building to the west, though Viktor does not intend to be in the city by the time it gets here. He has other concerns, mainly the letter resting on the table in front of him. The pages consist of old world paper, thick and crisp, its envelope sealed with heavy red wax that looks black in the evening light. Next to the papers is a small velvet bag.

The language on the paper is older than human memory, so Viktor is not worried about one of the servers taking any meaning from the pages. Written in deep red ink with an ornate seal pressed to the bottom, the letter is an ostentatious thing, matched only by the man who picks it up to read again.

> _My Lord Duke,_
> 
> _We have been contacted anonymously in regards to a series of murders that appear to be the result of miscreants encroaching upon a human city. This city has been declared a sanctuary for vampires, beings of other descent, and practitioners of the mystic arts. Conflict between our kind and humans must never occur within such boundaries._
> 
> _Four deaths caused by the miscreants have been studied by police forces in Detroit, Michigan, within the United States. The first and second deaths occurred alone around nighttime with no witnesses. The third and fourth deaths occurred together, once more at night. Each of the victims had their throats ripped out in a typical display of miscreant violence. Each has been drained of their life force and left for dead, discovered within hours by humans._
> 
> _It is your sacred duty to investigate and dispatch the miscreants that have taken root within this city. We have included a piece of one of their victim's clothing, carrying their stench. Their heads will suffice as proof of your burden. Should you need any assistance, our younger forces would be pleased to accompany you and learn from your great wisdom and experience._
> 
> _The names of the clans and covens within the surrounding area of your investigation are as follows: Crispino, de la Iglesia, Babicheva, and Minami. They have been notified of your impending investigation and will not disrupt your work. There is also a hunter clan, known as the Leroy family, that occasionally works in the area, but their territory mostly covers the nearby city of Toronto, Canada. They have a history of working with our organization, and our source tells us they have also been contacted. Given that Detroit is a sanctuary city, attacking you within city limits will be tantamount to war._
> 
> _Sanctuary law requires that no vampire may attack a human within the city walls. Donor agreements are legal within the city, but they must be registered by contract with the Council. We have established an account with the local blood bank for your use. Their contact information is enclosed for your convenience._
> 
> _May the darkness forever protect your grace from the wretched light of humanity._
> 
> _Your humble servant,_
> 
> _Aleksei_

The letter includes a few blank pages and an envelope, so that Viktor may send his reply. With a small sigh, Viktor reaches into his coat and pulls out a gold fountain pen, one that has been at his side for decades yet still gleams as if brand new. The ink of his letters runs red yet seems to glitter with golden flakes, just enough that he knows it will irritate whoever reads the finished response.

> _I accept. I have no need of useless violet-eyed children to follow me around like ducklings and get in my way, but thank you for the charming offer. The usual payment will suffice._

He signs his name with a flourish, gently blows the ink dry with a faint crackle of energy, and folds the paper neatly before pressing it into the provided envelope. From one of his many inner pockets, Viktor pulls out a small stamp and a shiny gold wax stick. He snaps his fingers to light a small fire, melting the wax until it drips onto the envelope, then unsheathing his seal and pressing it into the puddle. The crisp lines of his seal, curling into a stylized N, satisfy him thoroughly, and he puts his instruments back into his pocket.

The servers have turned to other duties, so Viktor does not worry about anyone looking when a raven lands on the balcony railing beside him. Viktor holds out the letter with a little smile, catching his own reflection in the bright red eyes of the beast. The poodle glances up at the raven, then snorts and turns her head away, standing up to stretch her long body out. Her eyes flash red as well.

"To your masters," Viktor whispers, leaning back as the raven bobs its head, then launches itself into the sky. In the distance, thunder rumbles. When the servers turn back to the table with the handsome stranger in his pressed suit and expensive coat, the coffee cup is empty, and the table has been abandoned. Beside the coffee cup rests the payment for the drink, as well as a small rose crafted from heavy paper, something that will later rest on a shelf beside pens and receipt paper, a gift to brighten someone's day.

To others, it is a message that someone was there -- someone who should not be provoked.

~*~

Viktor Nikiforov, once known as Vilikaila, Duke of Lithuania, and before that, other names that he doesn't bother recollecting anymore, prides himself on being a fairly straightforward individual. After many centuries of warfare, politics, secrecy, and appalling boredom, he has found little to fear from the modern world. Humanity is the same as he has always known, with perhaps a few improvements, and for the most part, Viktor navigates the world without a care for subterfuge in his dealings.

Having lived several hundreds of years, one would expect a vampire to be better at queuing than the standard human, having learned patience and understanding. Viktor has learned both, but he chooses not to queue; instead, he floats to the beginning of the line in the airport and smiles charmingly at the ticketing attendant.

" _Bonjour_ , my dear. Two first class tickets to Detroit, Michigan," Viktor says breezily, then adds, as if having the thought just then, "along with a tag for my dear Makkachin." He waves the leash a little. At his side, Makkachin is already being doted upon by the small family Viktor stepped in front of, the young children beaming in delight at her sweet nature. She accepts their petting with aplomb, and Viktor accepts his tickets with a wink.

The humans never make a fuss.

"Thank you, love," Viktor calls as he walks away. His traveling coat, made of soft white linen over a silken blue shirt, allows for easy movement through the crowds. Security doesn't spare a thought for him or Makkachin, as they don't look any different from any other human and dog in the airport. Not even when Viktor is settled into a comfortable seat in first class, Makkachin happily sitting beside him instead of in a carrier like regulations mandate, does one human stop to question him.

His allure works wonders on the mortal mind. Viktor uses it wherever there are humans, just to make his own life easier. Sometimes he gets a scathing look from a witch or suspicion from a shapeshifter, but even otherworldly beings rarely notice when he does it. He can even trick technology with his abilities, though he is one of the few who can.

While Makkachin spends most of the time napping, Viktor uses the long hours of the trans-Atlantic flight to study North America as it is now. The population has bloomed since he was last on the continent. Vampires are no longer the ruling power of the otherworld; instead, they are well-matched by witches and shapeshifters, primarily wolves and bears. Many large cities have sanctuary laws, where supernatural beings and their ilk agree not to fight each other in exchange for services and trade. The rest of the country is separated into clan and coven territories that also cover much of Canada and Mexico, often disregarding national and state borders. 

Viktor may have enemies there, but he hasn't been in the Americas for ninety years. Only the vampires and some covens would have memories that long. Viktor is infamous in his own way, but he never crossed anybody while he was in America the last time. He has no connections with any of the local politics, nor does he intend to cause any trouble there.

Like the old world, humans have no idea of the other beings that reside alongside them, save for hunters and those descended from native tribes. Even with the increase of technology, cameras, and tracking devices, humans still do not believe in the supernatural. Viktor finds it laughable at times.

He will obey the sanctuary laws, though: no eating humans within city limits without a written agreement. Human food will not feed his hunger, but it will keep his body going for some time. The Council has already set up blood bags for him, though it will never compare to the hunt.

Not that Viktor has cared to bother with hunting lately. It bores him.

If only Viktor could recover his interest in the hunt. Perhaps he will tour the Americas after he finishes with the rogue vampires, the "miscreants" that the Council despises. Surely something in those vast lands could entertain him.

His plane lands without issue. Viktor departs and flirts his way through customs with ease, collecting his suitcases from baggage claim. He and Makkachin take a leisurely taxi ride to the Detroit Marriott, a set of gleaming buildings that look lovely at night. Viktor carries his bags up to his room, taking some time to change and refresh himself after the long flight. Then he tucks his room key away and leaves the hotel, just after the clock has struck midnight.

When he steps onto the streets of Detroit, Viktor breathes in deeply.

Vampires, and many of them. Mostly young ones who wouldn't dare show their faces around Viktor, but he can sense a few older ones within the city limits, who may seek him out if he lingers for more than a few days. Witches by the dozens, to his dismay; he has never gotten along with witches, druids, or any of the magic users. Shapeshifters as well, and a few other interesting races, but nothing Viktor finds bothersome. No one in this city could possibly defeat him in a fight, and given the sanctuary laws, none would try.

Makkachin wriggles at his side, and Viktor pats her head gently. He must look a sight, dressed in a sleek gray suit with a thin ribbon instead of a tie, gloves on his hands and a black suit jacket over the coat. The summer heat should bother him, yet Viktor pays no attention to the humidity. He hasn't been bothered by the weather in several hundred years.

The pavement smells wet, heavy with car oil and muck. Beyond that is the faint stench of a rogue, bitter and wild. Viktor smiles again and looks down at Makkachin, who tilts her head up and noses at his hand. He tuts softly and leads her over to an alleyway across the street, vanishing into the shadows with her.

"Shall we, Makkachin?"

Makkachin barks up at him, and Viktor kneels down to unclip her leash. He opens his hand, revealing the tiny bit of cloth that was included in the letter from the Council. Makkachin sniffs at it, before her eyes turn red, and she growls low in her throat. She turns her head unerringly to the west. 

"Good girl," Viktor breathes. When she sets off running, her fur darkening and her long curls feathering out like wisps of shadow, Viktor runs at her side.

Her nose takes her to an alleyway a few blocks away, where the ground still reeks of blood. Viktor kneels down as Makkachin noses around the source of the scent, little growls escaping her throat, and touches his fingers to the pavement. Blood was spilled here in a violent manner. Though it has since been washed away, cleaned by both man and nature, the energy of it lingers. The humans were tortured for this blood.

"How baseless," Viktor murmurs, standing. Makkachin straightens, her back going straight, before she bounds off down the street. Viktor strolls after her, whistling an old Italian tune under his breath, his lips curling.

Deep in the city, a rogue vampire stills and twitches when the shadows around it growl. It snarls, and its burning red eyes flash, only to be echoed by another set of red eyes. One moves forward, appearing in the face of a vicious hound, shadows curling around her body. The rogue hisses, its long fangs gleaming in its bone-white face, hideous in the dim light from a nearby streetlamp.

The second the rogue twitches backward, the hound pounces, heavy paws landing on the rogue's arms and holding them down with massive black claws. The rogue snarls and thrashes, but the hound's strength is absolute.

A rich chuckle echoes from the surrounding shadows, and a moment later, a tall man with gleaming silver hair strides forward, his red eyes shining unnaturally in the dark. "What a nice little corner you have put yourself into," Viktor says, smiling down at the rogue, which has frozen at the sensation of a stronger, more powerful predator closing in on it. He rubs Makkachin's ear affectionately, then reaches past her and wraps his long fingers around the rogue's throat, lifting it from the ground and holding it aloft, his long claws pressing into the rogue's skin. With his free hand, he pats Makkachin on the head, and she licks his wrist before transforming back into her lovely poodle form.

Viktor chuckles again, and the rogue begins to struggle. "You have been quite naughty, childe," Viktor murmurs, taking in the blood-splattered clothing and the wild, roving gaze of the vampire in his grip. The rogue cannot seem to focus on him, even as it thrashes and hisses, the sign of a vampire lost to its senses. Viktor shakes his head and tightens his grip on the rogue's neck, forcing it to look down at Viktor.

One glance into the rogue's eyes is all he needs. He studies its most recent memories, muddled with bloodlust and chaos, but enough to cement its guilt. The rogue committed the murders and many others; though curiously, it did not lose control until it came to this city. Viktor frowns a little when he notices a tiny purple flash within the memories and starts to follow it.

He jerks back when purple fire erupts from the rogue's chest, letting go of the creature in surprise. A sigil burns in the center of the rogue's chest for an instant, making it scream in pain. Viktor watches, disturbed by the display of magic, though the purple fire is gone within a blink of the eye. Not even a burn mark remains.

Viktor frowns slowly. It seems a witch is involved with the rogue. Perhaps the rogue pissed off a witch at some point -- not impossible, in a city with this many of them -- or perhaps a curse was laid upon the creature. Either way...

"Childe, you have been judged and found guilty of violating our ancient creed," Viktor says quietly, his voice bland as he recites the Council's favored sentencing lines. "May the sun scorch your eyes and bleed you dry. You have lost yourself, and so you shall be lost. So mote it be."

The rogue's scream dies down, and it looks at Viktor, eyes widening. Viktor glances again into that mind, but he sees no sanity, only desperation and bloodlust. Sometimes rogues can come back from the change, but only with the help of their sires or strong emotional connections. Viktor can find nothing in the rogue's mind that might soothe its madness. With a small sigh, he snaps the rogue's neck and sets the body down.

"Pity," Viktor mutters, then snaps his fingers and holds out his arm. A raven flies down from the night sky and lands on his wrist delicately. Viktor offers a piece of paper to the raven, then watches it fly off.

Makkachin noses at the corpse, then trots over to Viktor's side and begins panting happily. Viktor strokes her soft curls back and tilts his head up to watch the skies, already bored of this job. The bit of magic had been a little interesting, but a spell on a rogue vampire is nothing new, and Viktor would rather be somewhere else. He wanted this to be exciting, but the rogue didn't even put up a fight. It hadn't even been scared of him.

As the cleaning service arrives and takes care of the body, Viktor hands them the address to the Council for sending the head, then sets off walking down the street, Makkachin trotting at his side. 

"If only something interesting would happen, Makkachin," Viktor laments. Makkachin licks his hand in commiseration.

~*~

To Viktor's pleasure, something interesting does happen. The next morning, an invitation arrives via the concierge with his delivery of blood. 

> _My Lord Duke,_
> 
> _In our gratitude for dispatching the scourge that was tainting the streets of our fair city, we invite you to our fortieth annual charity gala, to be hosted at the Fillmore Detroit beginning at 8:00 P.M. Dress is black tie, and local persons of fame and importance will be in attendance, including humans. Dinner and refreshments suitable for your personal diet will be provided. We will send a driver at 7:30 P.M. for your convenience._
> 
> _Yours truly,_
> 
> _Mila Babicheva-Crispino_
> 
> _Fourth Childe of Her Greatness, Lilia Baranovskaya_
> 
> _In Bond with Sara Crispino-Babicheva_

A single ticket to the gala, printed on heavy paper with an emblem of two champagne glasses entwined with a ribbon, slides into his hand. Viktor smiles and turns his gaze to the window, tapping the ticket against his lips. Babicheva is one of the vampire clans in the Detroit area; Crispino is the other. If Viktor remembers correctly, de la Iglesia is a shapeshifter clan, likely made of werewolves. Minami is the only major witch coven with any political weight in the city.

It should be fun. A night of dancing and charm would be nice after such a boring night. If nothing else, it might entertain him before he returns to France.

First, his wardrobe. Viktor glances through the clothes he has hung in the closet, frowns, and grabs his wallet. Makkachin looks up from where she is lounging on the king-sized bed. "Rest, my darling," Viktor tells Makkachin as he slides a sleek gray jacket on. "I'm going shopping!"

Makkachin snorts at that and lowers her head again, content to nap the day away. Viktor blows her a kiss and breezes out the door.

Viktor spends a few minutes charming the concierge, resulting in a list of boutiques around downtown Detroit that will suit his needs. Soon he is browsing through one of the stores, mouth piqued at the very modern styles. He left his tuxedos back in France, and he prefers to wear much more ornate styles of dress.

A glimmer of gold catches his eye, and Viktor slides over to the next display, where he finds a sleek black tuxedo with gold thread weaving through the fabric, with a lovely gold handkerchief tucked into the pocket. He smiles slowly.

"I'll take this one," he tells the shopkeeper, who nods in pleasure at such a large sale.

Standing on top of a small dais in front of several mirrors gives Viktor the chance to look across the entire store, while a tailor frowns at his legs and mutters to himself. Viktor stays still for the tailor, pleased that a little charm has helped them agree to have the suit ready for tonight. 

He catches sight of a young man entering the store alone, his nerves apparent in the way his eyes dart around at the displays. Viktor smiles a little, watching the man curiously. On first glance, he looks plain enough to be boring, wearing a sweater vest of all things, his hair messy and hanging in his face. His eyes are even more hidden by large square glasses. Viktor watches in amusement as the man evades the shopkeeper with finesse and makes his way quickly to a display of ties.

Then he spends ten minutes staring at the neckties like one of them might jump out at him and attack him.

Viktor holds back a chuckle. _Cute,_ he thinks, then finds himself surprised at the thought. Mortals sometimes entertain him with their little quirks and behaviors, but Viktor doesn't often pay notice to them long enough to cast judgement. He wonders what it is about this young man that has caught his interest.

The man circles the tie display, lips pursed in concentration. This gives Viktor a clearer view of his face, which is pleasantly attractive, to his surprise. Frustrated, the young man pushes his hair out of his face, letting Viktor see his eyes.

A lovely shade of brown, almost red. Viktor narrows his eyes and looks a little closer, but by the smell of him and his heartbeat, the man is a normal human. Some humans may share genes with vampires, if a vampire decides to sire children the human way, but that doesn't seem to be the case for this young man.

Finally the man chooses a frankly appalling blue tie, one of the most boring on the table and completely unsuited for him. Viktor sighs a little at the lack of taste. Judging by the shopkeeper's eyebrow twitch as the man brings the tie to the register, he feels the same.

"I'm finished, sir," says the tailor, standing and nodding to him. Viktor smiles and steps down from the dais, catching the attention of the young man across the room, bag in hand.

Their eyes meet. The young man blinks, holding his gaze for a long minute, his eyes widening minutely. Viktor realizes the man has long eyelashes.

Then the young man trips over a display, stammers an apology, and practically runs out the door. Viktor stares after him, then sighs a little, his mysterious entertainment gone. Disappointed, he steps into the dressing room to remove his suit, undressing neatly, while his thoughts remain on bright brown eyes and long lashes.

~*~

After Viktor finishes at the tailor shop, which will send his suit to the hotel in the afternoon, he goes to fetch Makkachin and sets off on a walk around the city. Though the day is sunny and clear, the sunlight doesn't bother him, one of the perks of living for so long. His power keeps him from being burned, unlike most of the young vampires who reside in the city. He does not see any vampires while on his walk.

Viktor sees plenty of witches and shapeshifters, though. They startle when they notice him, a vampire walking boldly through Detroit, but he merely smiles at them and continues on his way, keeping the peace. Undoubtedly, gossip will have tongues wagging about the mysterious vampire walking around in daylight, but Viktor isn't worried about anyone attacking him. Especially not if two of the vampire clans have invited him to the gala.

Many of the shapeshifters are clustered in Midtown, which seems to house university life and the artistic side of the city. Viktor notices several magical stores hidden amongst the mundane, but he doesn't approach them, not wanting to set off wards in case they are guarded against his kind. He has little need of what witches sell, anyway. Viktor's powers are nothing like the magic that these covens use, and the smells would likely bother his nose.

Makkachin is happy to lead Viktor right into a bubble of busy crowds enjoying the nice day. Viktor spends some time roaming the different neighborhoods, thinking the place rather quaint and completely unlike the bustle of Paris. Then he comes upon Wayne State University. The campus, which Viktor gets to glimpse as he walks through the town, is quiet, and Viktor takes his time to enjoy it. With summer being well underway, students are sparse, most of them gone home for their break, yet a few still linger. 

To Viktor's surprise, a small crowd has gathered in the central courtyard, which has long intersecting sidewalks and a fountain in the center. A stage has been set up with a sign for "Student Safety Seminar" plastered nearby. A young woman hands Viktor a small flier, which he takes out of bemusement, absently glancing over the material. Ah, it must be in response to the recent deaths nearby. A safety seminar for humans.

How quaint.

A jolt of interest runs down Viktor's spine when he notices the speaker -- the same man Viktor saw in the tailor shop. 

"Ahem," the man says into his microphone. "I am Yuuri Katsuki, and I teach criminology here at Wayne State. Most of you have read the recent emails from the provost about the recent news. There have been four deaths near campus, and the police haven't solved any of the cases."

The crowd murmurs worriedly. Viktor finds a bench under a tree, where there is a little shade, and sits down, crossing one leg over his knee, while Makkachin sits down at his feet and pants happily. He rubs his gloved fingers through her curls, his eyes on Professor Katsuki not forty feet away. How interesting, that their paths should cross again, and that Professor Katsuki is speaking of the very thing that brought Viktor to this city.

"I'm going to be talking to you today about what you can do to protect yourself in the future. We will cover some basic safety points for you to follow while walking around the city, as well as what to do in case you witness an attack or are attacked yourself," Professor Katsuki is saying. He speaks well, for someone who was so nervous in the face of silk ties.

Viktor listens with half an ear. The advice is sound -- don't walk around alone, keep a method of communication on your person, avoid dark areas -- but sometimes, Professor Katsuki almost sounds like he is speaking of predators, not fellow humans.

"If you see anything strange, run," Professor Katsuki says calmly. "Run and do not look back. The best thing to do is make your way to a populated area, where they would be hesitant to follow. Then you can call the police and get a ride home."

Good advice... if one was running from a vampire or a werewolf. Viktor narrows his eyes a little, then shakes off the odd thought. This man could be an ally of the shapeshifters, or he could even be a witch. He doesn't smell like magic, at least, but Viktor can never be too careful.

As Professor Katsuki ends his seminar and offers his students the chance to ask questions, his attention drifts to the back of the crowd and zeroes in on Viktor -- or more specifically, Makkachin. His lovely dog is snoozing now, and Viktor looks up from rubbing her belly to see Professor Katsuki staring at Makkachin. After a moment, his gaze flicks up to Viktor, his eyes widening once more in surprise. Viktor blinks, and Professor Katsuki blinks. Then he hurriedly focuses on the question his student is asking.

Viktor smiles at the sight, real amusement lacing through him. This man is really quite interesting.

Soon the questions end, and the crowd of students drifts apart, chatting as they tuck their fliers into their bags. A few remain and assist Professor Katsuki in taking down his sign, while two staff members come to load the speakers onto a nearby truck. At last Professor Katsuki is left alone, fiddling with the handle of his deep blue tote luggage.

Viktor has not missed the many glances thrown his way. Whether Professor Katsuki is interested in him as a vampire, in him as a man, or in his dog, Viktor is unsure, yet he finds it amusing all the same. He decides to wait the man out; surely, if the professor is a member of one of the covens or clans in the area, then he will avoid Viktor out of fear.

Professor Katsuki straightens after a moment, then squares his shoulders. Then he turns on his heel and walks straight toward Viktor.

 _Perhaps he is really just a simple mortal,_ Viktor muses, watching Professor Katsuki approach and stop a few feet from him, eyes glancing between Makkachin and Viktor's face. Viktor has to wonder what attracts him more -- his dear dog, or Viktor himself? He doesn't bother to use his powers to read the man's mind; he can see that Professor Katsuki is confused by his presence. The interest is written in his eyes.

"Hello," Professor Katsuki says, then holds out his hand. "I'm Yuuri Katsuki. I noticed you watching our seminar today."

Viktor reaches out and wraps his gloved fingers around Professor Katsuki's offering. Instead of shaking his hand in greeting, he turns Professor Katsuki's hand over, letting go of Makkachin's leash so that he can stroke a finger down the center of Professor Katsuki's palm. No traces of magic, scars from transformation, or calluses from typical weapon use. Merely the mark of a man who holds a pen too often.

Beneath his skin beats the ichor of human life, the sweet drink that Viktor needs to sustain himself. He smells... invigorating; different from other humans. Not in an otherworldly manner, but... something about him tempts Viktor. It would be very nice if Viktor were to charm this poor man and take him back to his hotel for a night of revelry and violence. His bloodless body would look gorgeous stretched across the white sheets of Viktor's bed.

If only they had not met in a city where that was highly discouraged.

"A pleasure to meet you," Viktor says after a long moment, his gaze flicking up to Professor Katsuki's face. "My name is Viktor Nikiforov. I was merely passing through the area with Makkachin, and we paused for the novelty of it. You have a talent for public speaking, Professor Katsuki."

Professor Katsuki has a blush on his face. How interesting. "Um, thank you. Yuuri is fine," he says quickly, trying to tug his hand back surreptitiously. Viktor releases him with a chuckle, picking up Makkachin's leash from where it lays over his leg. Makkachin lifts her head with interest, her tail wagging when she looks up at Yuuri. Her reaction to the stranger makes Viktor relax, and he smiles charmingly.

Yuuri -- and such a charming name he has, too -- makes the mistake of looking down and meeting Makkachin's soulful brown eyes. Viktor can _see_ him melt. "Hello there," Yuuri says in a completely different voice, crouching down and smiling at Makkachin. The sight of his smile sends a heady shiver through Viktor. How curious. Yuuri glances up at him. "May I pet your dog? I love poodles."

 _Oh, how charming._ Yuuri Katsuki is a dog-lover. "Of course. She's very gentle," Viktor says, his smile widening. "Makkachin, go on and greet Yuuri."

Makkachin needs no further command. She leaps up and jumps at Yuuri with a happy bark, knocking him back into the grass and licking at his face. Yuuri goes down with a yelp, his limbs flailing as he catches Makkachin and tries to evade her enthusiastic kisses.

Viktor hears a clear laugh, and he realizes it is his own. Watching Makkachin fawn over Yuuri has amused him to the point of real laughter. He lets the feeling suffuse him, finding it calming, while making no effort to save Yuuri from Makkachin's interest.

"You're such a big girl! Wow, you're so much bigger than Vicchan," Yuuri says, pushing himself up and smiling down at Makkachin. He glances up at Viktor, more cautious with his smile. "I have a toy poodle. He's much smaller, but they look like each other."

"Oh? They are good dogs," Viktor says, not mentioning that Makkachin only looks like a poodle. She is much more than that and has been at his side for centuries.

"They are," Yuuri agrees firmly, then gently nudges Makkachin off his stomach and shifts to his knees. He spends a few minutes petting her, while Viktor watches him, taken by the way Makkachin keeps licking his face and wagging her tail. She is genuinely happy to meet this human. She must agree with Viktor's sense of smell. "So, um, Mr. Nikiforov --"

"Viktor is fine," Viktor interrupts, his smile widening.

"Viktor," Yuuri says much more hesitantly. "You seem a little old for a student. Are you new to Detroit?"

"Just visiting for a job, which is finished now. I will be lingering for a few days to enjoy the sights. Detroit is a charming city." Viktor pats his leg, and Makkachin obediently leaves Yuuri to come sit at Viktor's heel, perfectly still for a moment, until he nudges beneath her ear affectionately. Then she leans heavily against his knee, panting happily up at Yuuri.

Yuuri stands, looking a little despondent at having lost Makkachin's favor. His eyes return to Viktor, oddly keen. "I hope you enjoy the city, then," Yuuri says after a moment. He licks his lips.

 _Oh,_ how Viktor is tempted. He doesn't hesitate as the decision cements itself in his mind; he wants Yuuri in his bed tonight. He wants Yuuri's blood in his veins. Even if willing donors must be by contract, a little allure goes a long way to make a human agree to such a thing. Many contracts stipulate that allure must not be part of the bargaining process, but... Viktor does not often play by the rules.

Viktor's smile widens as he focuses his allure on Yuuri. "Perhaps you could... show me around?" Viktor purrs, leaning forward.

Yuuri blinks a few times as the allure takes effect, his eyes clouding -- and then, like silk sliding off the end of a bed, his expression clears, and he ducks his head as his cheeks redden. "I'm not the best person to ask," Yuuri mumbles. "I don't get out that much."

Viktor blinks. He stares for a long moment, his smile frozen on his face, as Yuuri leans down to pet Makkachin again. His allure failed -- and it never fails on humans. His eyes narrow, studying Yuuri for a long moment. He sees it then; a tiny flash of blue around Yuuri's neck. A silver chain with an amulet attached -- some sort of protection against vampire allure, and a powerful one, to ward off Viktor. By the time Yuuri straightens, regret on his face, Viktor's smile has returned, no sign of his suspicion.

"I've got to get going, but it was nice meeting you, Viktor. I hope you have a nice time in Detroit," Yuuri says with a small smile. He meets Viktor's eyes again, and Viktor can _see_ that spark of interest -- and yet Yuuri does not succumb to his allure.

Viktor does not sigh. Instead he smiles and stands, offering his hand to Yuuri again, and after a moment, Yuuri takes it. This time Viktor holds back his desire to examine Yuuri and merely shakes his hand, letting go after a perfunctory amount of time. No need to look desperate, no matter how charming Yuuri is.

"Thank you, my dear," Viktor says, enjoying the expression that such an endearment causes to bloom on Yuuri's face. "Until we meet again."

"Um, yeah, bye," Yuuri says, a little dazedly. Viktor leaves him there, gently nudging Makkachin ahead when she seems reluctant to leave Yuuri, and takes a walk down the pathway, knowing that Yuuri is watching him and yet making no further attempts to seduce him.

If Yuuri has an amulet of protection, then he is likely involved with witches or some other otherworldly group. Without knowing what group has chosen to protect Yuuri, Viktor may inadvertently irritate someone who could cause him trouble. He doesn't actually wish to upset any treaties in the area; he has _some_ tact. Viktor wants no part of that, even if Yuuri is very handsome.

Delectable. 

Viktor shakes his head and finally sighs, drawing Makkachin's attention. "We should return and get ready for tonight. I'll order you a delicious supper and set you up with the television. Would you like a movie, my love, or the animal channel?" Viktor asks his dog, who lets out a whine. Viktor chuckles.

"Animal channel it is."

~*~

Katsuki Yuuri, twenty-eight and a professor approaching tenure, has had his share of strange experiences. Between his mother, who is a retired hunter, and half of Detroit's supernatural population sending their students to study in his university, Yuuri has plenty of knowledge about the supernatural. Every week, he can expect something weird to happen, odd enough that a normal human would be terrified, but for Yuuri, the strangeness is just another part of his routine.

He did not expect Viktor Nikiforov, the oldest and most powerful vampire in the world, to stroll into his afternoon lecture on public safety, let alone flirt outrageously with him while seducing him with his beautiful dog. Judging by Viktor's amusement, he had no idea that Yuuri is the person who contacted the Council in the first place.

(He really loves Viktor's dog. He wonders what Vicchan would think of Makkachin.)

At first glance, Viktor looks like he belongs to another time completely. He wears suits like he was born into luxury, yet he walks in daylight like a human. Without his name, if not for the glint of red deep in his eyes, and the way Yuuri's protective amulet heated up in the middle of their conversation, Yuuri wouldn't have had any idea that Viktor was a vampire. He would have believed Viktor to be, at worst, a very charming if old-fashioned man, harmless in his flirtation.

Yet the amulet around his neck, gifted to him from his mother's parents, heated up when Viktor tried to use allure on him. Yuuri had been surprised to realize that Viktor hadn't used any allure at all during their conversation before that point. Furthermore, he had been completely enthralled by Viktor... by his charm, his beauty, and his extravagance.

Yet even without all the signs pointing to Viktor's vampirism, Yuuri recognized his name in a heartbeat. He knew. Given all the books and pictures he has gathered over the years and hidden in his room... of course he knew.

Now Viktor Nikiforov is in Yuuri's city. Charming everyone around him, possibly plotting to murder everyone -- yet Viktor was sent by the Council to deal with the rogues. Yuuri can only hope that means Viktor will spare everybody else. Having such a powerful vampire nearby should terrify him, yet Yuuri cannot help feeling excited.

He hopes he gets to see Viktor again.

~*~

As the streets of Detroit pass by the car window, Viktor finds himself already bored. The car arrived promptly, sleek and black with no noticeable hints as to the owner, giving Viktor a modicum of privacy. The Fillmore Detroit, an old theater that has been turned into a lovely venue, is not far from his hotel, but Viktor appreciates the efforts of the two vampire clans in the city to stay in his good graces.

His suit is impeccable. The tailors kept to his requirements, the shirt very faintly hued gold instead of the standard white, while the vest and necktie shine brightly, matching the gold cufflinks. The pattern of his accoutrements is subtle and pleasing to the eye, and black gloves complete the ensemble. In lieu of wearing his personal ring, Viktor has attached a tiny pin to his lapel, gleaming with aquamarines and diamonds, to match his cufflinks.

Still a little modern for his tastes, but Viktor is pleased with the vision he presents. As the car pulls up to the Fillmore, Viktor checks the tiny watch he has tucked into one pocket, the chain attached to his vest, and sighs a little. Right on time.

The driver opens the door for him. "Sir," he murmurs, and Viktor gives him a small smile as he steps out. A young vampire who knows the protocols; his manners speak well of the clan that created him. Whether that is the Babicheva clan or the Crispino clan, Viktor is unsure, but he finds it does not matter to him. They seem to amount to the same, in the end.

The Fillmore is an older theater, housed within a white brick building that rises up several stories. It doesn't look like it should house a theater at all, but Viktor has seen all kinds of theaters and studios in his life. The inside of the building meets his expectations: the lobby gleams with rich red carpets and gold ceilings, bustling with humans and vampires in sparkling dresses and suits. Viktor stands at the top of the balcony that overlooks the lobby for a moment, studying the different people he sees.

The vampires are mostly younger than him and much less powerful, save a few that look to be promising. They look no different than the humans around them, dressed in the same fashions and finery, though their eyes glint red on occasion. Still, most of the vampires have made an effort to hide their immortality, which Viktor can appreciate. He rarely shows off his eyes to the public.

He spots a few shapeshifters as well, with brown hair and dark skin -- possibly the de la Iglesia clan he was warned about. A few witches linger on the edges of the room, giving the vampires frowns but otherwise mingling without issue. Humans make up the majority of the crowd, of course, but Viktor is pleasantly surprised by how many otherworldly beings fill the room. He takes a moment to tone down his own aura, so as not to offend anyone, and descends to the lower floor.

"Your Grace?"

Viktor turns to see a vampire standing behind him, wearing a glittering blue dress, her heart-shaped face framed by long, dark hair that hangs down straight past her shoulders. Another vampire in a much more demure dress stands behind her -- an attendant or guard of some sort. She smiles at him and holds out her hand, which Viktor takes and lifts to kiss, just above the signet ring on her finger. Her tanned skin is warm.

"Mr. Nikiforov is fine in public. Or Viktor, if you prefer," Viktor says, winking.

"I am Sara Crispino-Babicheva, Mr. Nikiforov," she says, her violet eyes twinkling. Underneath the golden light of the theater, he can barely see the red in them. Not a new vampire, unlike normal violet-eyed ones, then. Letting go of his hand, she catches two glasses of champagne from a wandering server and offers him one. "Welcome to our fair city. I'm glad the council was able to send you so quickly. You handled our problem with such little trouble that it's embarrassing."

Viktor chuckles, taking the champagne and tilting it toward her in a silent toast. "No need to be embarrassed, Mrs. Crispino-Babicheva. I happen to be an expert in this sort of affair, after all. Those types of problems are tricky by nature, unfortunately."

"Yes, especially since it was the fifth one we've encountered recently," Sara murmurs, which makes Viktor pause. 

"The fifth? That was not included in my report," Viktor says slowly. Sara blinks a few times.

"Did they not tell you? We have had four of them appear in the past two months. None of them caused incidents, though, and we were able to deal with them on our own. This one was far more... troublesome," she murmurs, glancing beyond Viktor.

 _This one was the only one that killed,_ Viktor reads in the words she does not say, for fear of someone overhearing. He frowns as he considers that information, which changes the situation enough that it has caught his attention.

"I wonder why this last one was different," Viktor muses, a faint frown touching his lips.

"There is no telling," Sara sighs, then recovers her smile. "This is not the place for such dreary talk, though. What does your schedule look like tomorrow, Mr. Nikiforov?" Her attendant, who has been silent up to this point, pulls out a tiny black planner and a pen.

"I have no plans," Viktor replies, watching the attendant as she writes in her tiny book. She shows it to Sara, who smiles up at Viktor.

"Tomorrow night at eleven?" she offers, and Viktor nods. "Wonderful. Jenna, my assistant, will send the details to your hotel room. For tonight, please enjoy yourself as part of our gratitude. We have an open bar, which includes some rather enticing options that I hope you will like. If you will excuse me, Mr. Nikiforov."

"Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Crispino-Babicheva," Viktor replies, watching as Sara glides away, her assistant a silent shadow at her heel. He sips his champagne and turns to the room, considering the nearby bar, then exhales and heads to the theater itself.

The stage has been transformed into a dance floor, while the space around it is filled with round tables covered in long white clothes and gleaming dinnerware. The room is large and grand, eight stories tall and decorated with deep blue balloons and golden lights. Many people are already seated, chatter filling the room in a low, easy murmur. As Viktor surveys the room, another young vampire in a black suit and dark blue tie appears at his elbow, bowing slightly.

"Mr. Nikiforov, may I escort you to your table?"

"If you would," Viktor says quietly, content to follow the young man to one of the tables near the front. As he approaches, his gaze lands on a bolt of dark hair, and his heart skips a slow beat without his permission. He remembers that hair, and more significantly, that _scent._

_How curious to meet him here._

"Yuuri," Viktor says, his smile widening as the subject of his attention jolts and turns, staring up at Viktor with wide eyes. The attendant lingers for a moment, then melts away into the crowd. "What a delight to see you here, my dear."

"Viktor!" Yuuri exclaims, rising from the table and flailing his hands a little. He is wearing the abominable blue tie he bought at the store earlier, but his suit fits him well, nothing like the sweater vest of this afternoon. It lacks the details Viktor prefers, but the design suits him, accentuating his slim waist. Viktor doesn't miss how Yuuri's eyes drop slightly and rise again, a soft blush of admiration touching his cheeks. "Um, hello."

Viktor holds out his hand, and Yuuri takes it without thinking. He only has himself to blame when Viktor bows slightly to kiss his warm skin, his lips curling as Yuuri goes red. "Hello," Viktor purrs, chuckling as Yuuri's fingers twitch in his grip. "It is lovely to meet you again. We seem to be tablemates tonight."

"Really?" Yuuri says, glancing at the table and blinking a few times. His eyes widen when he spots the small white card with Viktor's name on it a few seats away. "Wow, so we are. I got here a little early, but I didn't even notice..."

"No matter. Though..." Viktor releases Yuuri's hand, considering the table for a moment, then deftly switches his card with the one next to Yuuri, smiling charmingly when Yuuri turns a disbelieving stare onto him. "This creates a fantastic opportunity to continue our conversation from this afternoon. I hope your date doesn't mind."

"I didn't bring a date," Yuuri says, a little blankly. Viktor does his best to hide his pleasure at this knowledge. Yuuri glances between Viktor and his new seat, then gives in, sinking down into his chair and shaking his head a little. He jumps when Viktor pushes his chair in, then looks up at Viktor with a small smile, shy with that cautious interest from this afternoon. "Will yours mind?"

"My only date is Makkachin, and she elected to stay behind," Viktor says with a sigh, sliding his chair out and seating himself beside Yuuri. This close, he can smell Yuuri's cologne, and it blends with his scent wonderfully. He breathes in slowly, enjoying the calming effect of Yuuri's scent amidst the dozens of scents in the room, and his smile widens. The evening just got much more interesting. 

Yuuri is staring at him and making no effort to hide it. A server appears behind their chairs, holding a tray of tall champagne flutes, the liquid inside sparkling gold beneath the theater lights. Viktor has barely registered her presence before Yuuri turns to takes two of them and downs one of the drinks immediately. Viktor raises an eyebrow, amused; he can hear how quickly Yuuri's heart is beating. His nervous energy is oddly charming.

"I can do this," Yuuri mutters to himself, then turns a smile on Viktor. "So, Makkachin stayed at the hotel?"

"She wanted to watch Animal Planet," Viktor says with a conspiring wink, taking a glass as well. To his delight, Yuuri laughs.

Their table has a fine view of the stage, where a microphone has been set up, alongside a small cluster of musicians who have been playing soft classical songs ever since Viktor arrived. A distinguished couple approaches their table, and Viktor stands to greet them, exchanging pleasantries. Humans, but rich ones -- though Yuuri doesn't seem to know them, which means his focus is likely to remain on Viktor for the evening. Slowly, the room fills with more and more people, as the guests make their way to their tables. After their table is full, Viktor sits down again and lets his gaze wander to Yuuri, admiring his profile.

Yuuri has been watching him the entire time, nursing his second glass of champagne. Or rather, his third, if Viktor's eyes haven't deceived him, spotting the extra empty glass by his water.

Another server approaches with a small pad of paper, a young vampire by her eyes. She nods her head demurely at Viktor, subtle in her acknowledgement. "What would everyone like to drink?" she asks with a smile. 

Yuuri orders more champagne. Viktor hides a laugh and asks for a Bloody Mary. At the request, Yuuri gets a funny look on his face, as if unsure whether he should laugh. Viktor only smiles, pleased with his own cleverness. He suspects that any drink he receives will be mixed with blood in some way; at least, he hopes so. Many other vampire-hosted events have done the same, often preparing the special drinks at a separate bar that is protected from humans.

Yuuri seems to shake off his mood in the lull after the server leaves. Viktor enjoys watching the minute expressions on his face. He would love to know what Yuuri is thinking.

"It's such a coincidence that you're here," Yuuri says after a moment, his voice low and intimate. Viktor's smile widens, taking the opportunity to lean in a little. He catches the edge of a flush on Yuuri's ears and enjoys the sight. "I thought all the tickets were sold out."

"One of my business associates invited me at the last minute," Viktor replies. "What has brought you to this charming place, Yuuri?" To his gratification, the way he purrs the name turns the tips of Yuuri's ears bright red.

"I was the only one available," Yuuri mutters. "They sent tickets to my department, but everyone is traveling or busy. I'm supposed to present a check from the university later."

Viktor makes an appropriate admiring sound. "How lovely. Does that mean I will get to watch you on that stage later?" He winks conspiratorially when Yuuri looks at him in surprise.

"Maybe," Yuuri says after a moment, his lips twitching. "I guess that's why you were in that store earlier today... for tonight?"

"Just as you were, I imagine," Viktor says, glancing at the tie around Yuuri's neck. Yuuri touches it self-consciously, and Viktor smiles. "We seem to be running into each other often."

"Right. Must be a coincidence." Yuuri laughs a little awkwardly. "By the way, um, Viktor... what is it that you do?"

"I'm a businessman. Mostly, I handle impartial mediation for disputes," Viktor says smoothly. "I work mainly in France and Russia, but on occasion, my American associates will request my unique skill set. I have not been in America for years, so coming here has been an entertaining experience. I have enjoyed it thus far... even more so, for meeting you." He enjoys the way Yuuri's eyes widen. "When all is said and done, though, I shall be glad to return home."

Yuuri slides a long finger down the stem of his champagne glass. His eyes haven't left Viktor's face. "Is home in France? Your name sounds Russian, though..."

"A little of both countries," Viktor answers with a small smile. He is tempted to put his hand over Yuuri's, but the human still seems nervous, and the night is young. "Home is wherever I choose to stay."

Yuuri looks contemplative at that, his lips touching his champagne glass. He seems to realize what he is doing and sets the glass down. "When are you going back?"

Viktor is silent for a moment, considering the question. He wonders why Yuuri wants to know. "My flight is in four days, so I have a little time to be a tourist," he says finally.

"Four days? Hm," Yuuri says, staring into his champagne. "I can't think of anything happening on campus tomorrow... but it's the weekend, so there might be some events going on."

Viktor chuckles, absently playing with the small chain of his pocket watch. Yuuri's gaze darts over to him and follows the motion, focusing on the tiny gold links with interest, but he doesn't say anything about it. "I may take the opportunity to wander with Makkachin again. Perhaps a dog park might suit her desire for activity," he muses, which catches Yuuri's attention.

"There are lots of dog parks in the city!" Yuuri enthuses. Viktor finds himself quite taken with how much Yuuri seems to love dogs. He wonders what Yuuri would think of Makkachin's otherworldly form. "I take my dog to the Dearborn park, but I think it's residents only..."

"No matter, I'm sure we will chance upon some entertainment," Viktor says, his smile widening. His hair falls in his eyes, and he sweeps it back with a small gesture. Yuuri follows the movement with his eyes, then quickly turns back to his champagne and takes a large gulp, finishing off the glass. Fortunately for him, the server arrives with their drinks, setting a tall glass in front of Viktor and replacing Yuuri's empty champagne flutes with a full one.

Viktor takes a moment to admire his drink, which is a deep red, darker than tomato juice should call for, but the lighting of the room allows for the drink to appear as any other human-friendly mixture. The drink is topped with an artful arrangement of olives, lettuce shreds, and a lime wedge. Viktor picks up the glass and sips slowly.

His lips curl at the taste of blood. A proper Bloody Mary after all.

"What meal did you get?" Yuuri asks, catching Viktor's attention. He looks a little less uptight, the stiffness in his shoulders somewhat relaxed now with the addition of alcohol. He is watching Viktor again, the glittering lights above their heads reflecting off his glasses.

Viktor considers how to answer. Likely, when the tickets had been ordered, one would choose their dinner course then. He suspects that his dish will be infused with blood in some way, but beyond that, he has little care for what it will actually be. 

"My associate took care of it, so I have no idea," Viktor says, flashing a smile. Yuuri swallows his champagne and sets it down abruptly, glancing to their plates with wide-eyed wonder.

"I got the pork," Yuuri says, a little weakly. "Hopefully it'll be good... It was last year, but you never know, they might have gotten a new caterer."

"I think it will be fine," Viktor murmurs. He watches Yuuri watch him for a little while, wondering at the coincidence of running into Yuuri here. He thinks again of Yuuri spread across his bed, first imagining him bloodless and limp, then flushed and dark-eyed with lust. A fissure of heat runs through him at the mental image, and he wets his lips.

Yuuri's gaze drops to his mouth, then skirts away. He drinks more of his champagne, and Viktor has to focus on his own drink, tasting the blood on his tongue and wondering what Yuuri's blood might be like.

They both glance up a moment later when two women walk onto the stage, the crowd going quiet. Viktor recognizes Sara Crispino-Babicheva, and the woman beside her with wavy red hair and a twinkle in her eyes must be Mila Babicheva-Crispino. They both smile at the crowd.

"So begins the fortieth annual Babicheva Charity Gala," says the woman with red hair, spreading her hands. "I am Mila Babicheva-Crispino, and this is my wife, Sara Crispino-Babicheva. We welcome you."

The following speech gives little information that Viktor cares to remember. He takes a moment to acknowledge the multiple charities the gala will donate to after the night is over, making a silent decision to leave a substantial sum for the lone animal charity.

Finally, the two vampires take their bows and step off the stage, as the music begins again, giving the gala a light, romantic aria led by its violinist and pianist. Viktor listens to the music with a faintly wistful feeling, remembering when this song first began to play in concert. While the music plays, their dinners arrive.

Viktor finds his steak satisfactory, enjoying the deep red sauce with tiny mushrooms and the glass of wine the server brings him. Some of the nearby tables have engaged in spirited conversation, but at Viktor's table, the different couples have their own conversations, which gives Viktor the chance to talk to Yuuri.

With a generous helping of champagne, Yuuri opens up to him between shy glances and bites of his meal. Viktor learns that Yuuri teaches criminology at Wayne State University, having earned his doctoral degree at nearby Michigan State University. Viktor hasn't studied at a proper school in over a century, but he likes the way Yuuri talks about university life and academia, content to listen to him ramble about the article he is working on and the dread he feels about the upcoming academic year.

"I hate talking in front of class. I hated it when I was a student, and I hate it even more as a professor," Yuuri sighs, dabbing his mouth with his napkin neatly. Viktor resolutely refuses to feel jealous of a piece of cloth.

"You have a fine speaking voice, though," Viktor says, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks back to Yuuri speaking at the seminar that afternoon. "You did not seem nervous at all. I found you quite riveting."

That sweet little blush is back on Yuuri's cheeks. Viktor admires the proof of humanity, wondering how the blood beneath Yuuri's delicate skin would taste, then forces himself to take a drink of wine.

"I've practiced a lot," Yuuri says simply, then takes a deep breath, as if to fortify himself. "I've got to go up on stage soon and present the check... then I think they'll open up dancing when everyone's done."

Dancing. Viktor hasn't enjoyed dancing in a long time. He has danced with countless nameless faces over the years, at balls and galas and parties, yet he has never been more bored of it. Viktor may leave when the dancing starts.

He pauses at the thought, then reconsiders, glancing at Yuuri, who is staring at the empty dance floor on stage with longing in his eyes. Viktor smiles slowly. "Perhaps I should steal you for a dance then," Viktor offers in a low tone, enjoying the way Yuuri's heart skips a beat. "To help you relax after your trying time on stage."

"Viktor, don't be absurd," Yuuri says, but he is smiling now, watching Viktor with interest. "Maybe it's the alcohol talking, but... I wouldn't say no to a dance."

"Good," Viktor murmurs.

Soon their dishes are cleared away, and Sara and Mila return to the stage. Their eyes look a little redder in the light; Viktor must not have been the only vampire with a special dish.

"Now, we would like to invite our top donors to the stage, to thank them for their generous support. Our three charities will benefit greatly from your contributions tonight. First, Dr. Yuuri Katsuki of Wayne State University," Sara says, turning her smile on Yuuri, who stiffens before gracefully rising to his feet. He doesn't look like he has consumed half a dozen glasses of champagne, which Viktor finds rather interesting.

Yuuri makes his way to the microphone on stage, taking a small envelope out of his coat and presenting it to Mila with a little bow. "Thank you for your kind words, Chairman," Yuuri says. Only the faintest wobble can be detected in his voice. "This spring, our contributors raised over twelve thousand dollars for United Way. We are honored to take part in this important effort for the community." He bows again to applause, then makes his way back to the table, sinking into his chair with a deep sigh.

His hands are shaking.

"You did very well," Viktor murmurs, leaning over and covering Yuuri's hand with his gloved fingers. "That was lovely, Yuuri."

Yuuri gives him a weak smile. "Thanks," he whispers, looking back at the stage to watch the next donor present their check.

Viktor watches as well, though his attention is on Yuuri's heartbeat, thumping wildly for a few minutes, before it slowly calms down. He doesn't remove his hand, as Yuuri has not brushed him off. Surely, he has been reading the signals correctly... surely, Yuuri is just as interested in him.

Yet his peace is disturbed by a distant snarl, too quiet for humans to hear. Viktor sits up slowly, his eyes narrowing as he listens closely, turning his focus from Yuuri's gentle heartbeat to the streets beyond the theater. He hears it again -- a deep noise, the angry growl of a vampire. He glances up at the stage, meeting Sara's eyes; she looks worried, but she hides it swiftly, exchanging a glance with her bondmate.

Viktor makes a point of glancing at his watch, then breathes out and leans over to Yuuri. "Seems I have another dispute to mediate. I'll be back soon, my dear," he whispers, taking a brief moment to enjoy the scent of Yuuri's blood pulsing beneath the skin of his neck. Then he draws away and stands, ignoring the way Yuuri's heart rate speeds up from Viktor's closeness.

He feels the attention of all the vampires, shapeshifters, and witches in the room. They can sense it, too; the rising bloodlust of a rogue not three blocks away. Viktor smiles grimly and climbs the stairs to the atrium. One of Sara's vampires meets him by the doors.

"We are handling the cameras, Your Grace," the vampire murmurs, bowing to Viktor. "Do you need assistance?"

"No," Viktor replies, his smile fading as he looks out at the streets. "I will try to be quick. I wouldn't want to leave my companion alone for too long," he says, catching the servant's look of surprise at the possessive claim, before he strides forward, out of the theater.

If something goes wrong, at least the Crispino and Babicheva clans will look after Yuuri. Viktor doubts they would dare risk his ire otherwise.

He takes to the shadows, following the low growls and hisses until he comes upon another rogue vampire. As he suspected, it has lost itself in its bloodlust, red eyes burning from a recent meal. Its features have morphed into insanity, and in its grasp is a young man with wide eyes, fearful as he looks up at the monster. Every few seconds, tiny flashes of yellow energy spark between where the rogue has grabbed the young man, marking him as a possible magic user.

Viktor hides a grimace. He hates dealing with witches, particularly after the last witch he knew turned on him after years of friendship and tried to murder him. Viktor prefers to avoid them at all costs these days.

"Please, no," begs the young man, his messy blonde hair falling in his eyes, colored with a red streak. Viktor wonders if it is blood; he can see red trickling down the side of the young man's face. The rogue throws the man against the wall and approaches him in a steady, threatening prowl.

Viktor steps in front of the human then, staring down at the creature, seeing long hair and the echo of a woman's beauty. The rogue freezes at his presence, then snarls and jumps at Viktor instead. Viktor catches it with his hands, grunting as the rogue knocks him back.

"Get out of here," Viktor snaps at the young man behind him, ignoring his wide-eyed stare. "Go!"

The young man wastes no time, scrambling to his feet and limping away quickly. Viktor approves of his fortitude in the face of certain death, then focuses on the creature currently trying to bite his face off. This rogue vampire seems more powerful than the other one. He wonders if they were a mated pair, if he merely missed the second one yesterday.

No matter.

"You have interrupted my night with a very special person," Viktor says quietly, his tone dark. The rogue only fights harder to reach him, but despite the increase in strength, the creature is no match for him. Viktor grabs the rogue by the neck and leans in, biting deeply into its artery, then quickly dropping the beast before the spraying blood can touch his suit.

The rogue writhes at his feet, quickly bleeding out, which means it must not have had much to eat before Viktor got hold of it. Viktor raises a gleaming shoe and presses it against the rogue's sternum, staring down at it as its strength abruptly fades, leaving it panting desperately against the concrete ground. The rogue lifts gleaming red eyes to stare at him, and Viktor doesn't hesitate to delve into its mind.

The rogue came to Detroit not long ago and lost control, though Viktor cannot see how. Just the same as the other creature, then, though he sees no memory connecting them. He doesn't see any other victims, thankfully -- he would rather not deal with the paperwork -- but he catches sight of something strange and familiar. A bright purple flare of magic, at the edge of one of the rogue's thoughts.

He follows it -- and under his boot, a sigil flares and burns in the middle of the rogue's chest. Viktor removes his foot quickly and reaches down to grab the sigil, but it fades to dust before he can catch hold of it. He scowls, displeased by this oddity.

A witch is definitely involved. Just his luck.

"Childe, you have been judged and found guilty of violating our ancient creed," Viktor says. He can hear sirens in the distance; he needs to be quick. "May the sun scorch your eyes and bleed you dry. You have lost yourself, and so you shall be lost. So mote it be."

He forms a long stake out of shadow and drives it into the rogue vampire's heart. Disgusted by the mess, Viktor steps back and checks his clothes for any spots of blood, not wanting to alarm Yuuri or the other guests at the gala. When he finds no issues with his clothes, Viktor summons a raven and sends it off to the Crispino and Babicheva clans to handle the cleaning. He wonders if the young man is nearby still, then decides it is not his business. The beast is dead, now.

At the end of the alley, two vampires appear wearing dark grey clothing -- the cleanup crew, with _Crispino Services_ written on their front pockets. Viktor leaves the corpse to them with instructions to preserve the body, glad that his duty is done.

He turns and walks back into the shadows, heading back to the theater. When he reaches the doors, several people are waiting for him, including four vampires, two shapeshifters, and a single witch. Sara Crispino-Babicheva steps forward first, her bondmate hovering at her elbow. They lead him to a small alcove while other vampires and shapeshifters stand guard.

"Was it a rogue?" Sara asks. Viktor nods, and the small crowd erupts into murmurs of dismay, until Mila clears her throat pointedly. Sara takes a deep breath. "Please tell us what happened, Your Grace."

Viktor sighs, absently pulling his gloves off and checking them for damage, now that he has better light. "The rogue was attacking a human, or perhaps a young witch," Viktor muses, remembering the flashes of yellow light. He ignores the way the witch in front of him startles. "I stepped in before the rogue could kill the boy and subdued her. I thought perhaps she was a bondmate to the one I handled yesterday, but her memories showed they did not know each other. She is dead."

"And the witch boy?" the witch, a short Asian woman with bright eyes, asks fervently.

"Alive. I sent him away to safety. If I am correct, he has already called the authorities, or at least an ambulance for his injuries. Your company is handling the disposal, and by now they should be removing the rogue from the street," Viktor says.

"What did the boy look like?" the witch interrupts before anyone else can ask a question. Viktor hides his irritation.

"A young man with hair like yours and a red streak above his eye."

The witch goes pale with shock. "That's Kenjirou," she whispers, then steps back. "I must go. Thank you, Your Grace. We will contact you soon." Then she is gone, all but running out the front doors, much to Viktor's dismay. He pulls his gloves back on with a frown.

"That was Minami Chikako," Sara explains in a quiet voice. "Kenjirou's mother, and the leader of her coven. If the boy was indeed her son, you have earned another ally tonight, Your Grace."

"I see," Viktor says with a small sigh. Perhaps this means the witches of Detroit will stop glaring at him every time he steps outside. "Though... I am concerned about one thing. During yesterday's disposal and tonight's, both of the rogues showed signs of magical tampering. I attempted to look through their memories both times, but the memory associated with the magic was erased by a spell. Perhaps the Minami coven would have more information on the type of magic."

The small crowd of vampires and shapeshifters exchange glances. One of the shapeshifters, an older werewolf, leans in to whisper to Sara, who nods.

"If you would, Your Grace, I would like to invite the leaders of the de la Iglesia clan and the Minami coven to our meeting tomorrow night. Then we may discuss everything at length and try to find an answer. This is not the first time we have heard about magic associated with these rogues, and we would like your full opinion on the matter."

Viktor frowns slowly. "This sounds like more than a simple extermination request," he says thoughtfully, considering all the information that was included in the letter from the Council. "I would like to review all of the information you have, and I will share what I have learned as well."

"We would appreciate it," Sara says, sounding grateful. The shapeshifters and vampires behind her nod in agreement. 

Viktor exhales, almost feeling excited for the first time in many years about his job. This seems like quite the mystery to investigate. He smiles slowly. Perhaps he should stay in the city for a while longer.

With the rogue handled and the meeting arranged for the following night, Viktor joins his peers and returns to the theater. He sighs a little to see that the dancing has already begun, with several long tables heavy with champagne and desserts set up to one side of the room. Viktor scans the crowd for a moment, briefly anxious that Yuuri has left him instead of waiting, but he is pleased to notice his sweet, shy professor standing by one of the dessert tables, watching the upper entrance.

When Yuuri's gaze lands on Viktor, his eyes light up, and he lifts his hand in a wave. Viktor separates from the clan leaders and descends the stairs, walking to Yuuri's side and giving a faint nod to the vampire who is standing nearby, keeping watch. The vampire bows slightly, then disappears into the shadows. Yuuri moves to meet him, his eyes frantically glancing over Viktor, to his bemusement.

Viktor smiles at Yuuri. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, my dear. The dispute ran on for a little longer than I intended."

"It's okay, I mean -- if everything's alright? Is it alright?" Yuuri asks, glancing up at Viktor anxiously.

"Mm, well enough. I handled the problem, but we uncovered a side effect that will need closer examination. I have a meeting tomorrow to deal with it," Viktor sighs, then shakes his head. "No matter. Such talk is too heavy for a night such as this. I believe I promised you a dance."

Yuuri takes a deep breath, the tension draining from his shoulders, then touches his lips to his champagne glass. His eyes meet Viktor's gaze, clearly no longer sober, yet still managing to sparkle with some sort of relief. Viktor is gratified to see a new side of Yuuri, this one playful and seductive.

"Maybe you did," Yuuri says, his voice a lot more woozy from alcohol now, then laughs at the expression Viktor makes. "Yes, you did, and I'd love to dance with you now that everything's okay. Shall we, Viktor?"

"We shall, Yuuri." Viktor holds out his arm for Yuuri to take, then escorts him up to the stage where several couples and groups are dancing. Yuuri surprises him by catching his hands and drawing him into a close embrace. Viktor allows it, too interested in Yuuri's intentions to be bothered by who leads. He likes how forward Yuuri is acting now with several glasses of champagne in him. He wonders how many Yuuri has actually consumed tonight.

 _His blood will taste sweet with so much alcohol in him,_ Viktor thinks, his fangs aching briefly. Convincing someone into his bed while inebriated stretches even the thinnest of excuses, yet Viktor cannot help but imagine it.

They dance, and they dance. Yuuri is surprisingly deft on his feet, showing another new, fascinating side to him. He must have had formal training at some point; he is too graceful and knows too many styles of dancing for him to be an amateur. They switch leads several times, and Viktor enjoys it more than he admits, standing on equal ground to somebody who has no idea who he is. Yuuri doesn't care about his centuries-old title, his sire, his occupation, or his power. He simply wants to dance.

Hours pass, but each moment remains crisp and clear in Viktor's mind, of the smiles Yuuri flashes his way, the way their hips press together when their movements bring them close enough to touch. He can hear Yuuri's blood beating a new song beneath his skin, and he aches to hear it, to open Yuuri up and listen to the symphony of his humanity. He wants to sink beneath Yuuri's ribs and wrap himself around Yuuri's heart, to hear it always.

Such a frail, gentle mortal... Viktor could crush him without a thought.

Sometimes other people interrupt their dancing, begging for Yuuri to partner with them, or daringly asking Viktor to a dance. When that happens, Viktor always feels Yuuri's hot, jealous gaze on his hands where they rest on his new partner's waist or shoulder. He, too, cannot keep his stare off the hands that touch Yuuri. He is becoming obsessed, and yet he feels the interest returned, with the drastic degradation of Yuuri's inhibitions.

Making such a claim in public, even through touch... Viktor wonders if the other clan leaders think him insane. He does not care for their opinions though, only for the way Yuuri looks at him.

When they reunite, Viktor sweeps Yuuri into his arms, drawing him close for the next slow dance. Yuuri gazes up at him with dark, smoldering eyes. His tie has ended up around his head, and his shirt is half-unbuttoned, revealing delicate pale skin. His suit jacket is gone, abandoned at a table. Viktor's clothes are askew as well, his tie loosened and his jacket hung over a chair alongside Yuuri's clothing. His hair is a mess, since Yuuri has taken to running his fingers through his ponytail whenever he pulls Viktor close, yet Viktor cannot bring himself to mind.

"I think I'm drunk," Yuuri whispers to Viktor in a sage tone. Viktor tries to count the number of champagne glasses that have passed through Yuuri's hands, then gives up with a wry chuckle.

"You may be, my dear. Perhaps I should see you home?"

"That would be bad," Yuuri says, his eyes all too knowing for a moment. "It would be nice, though... you are very tempting, Viktor. Your eyes..."

"My eyes?" Viktor repeats, his lips curling in amusement.

"They're very pretty," Yuuri whispers, then leans into Viktor with a heavy sigh. "I'm so drunk. And you smell good, and I'd really like to..."

"Yuuri, my dear, you should not finish that sentence in public. Come on, let us find your jacket, shall we?" Viktor interrupts, something hot running through his cold body. He is thirstier than he thought; the blood mixed into his drinks and meal, let alone the blood from the rogue, was not enough to sate him. He all but _burns_ for Yuuri's sweet ambrosia.

Viktor escorts Yuuri from the stage, fetching their coats, then helps Yuuri into the jacket and dons his own. Finally, he leads Yuuri from the room, exchanging nods with Sara and Mila as he leaves.

The most powerful vampire in the city, leaving the gala with the most human of humans. They likely all expect Yuuri to be dead or enthralled in the morning, never mind the laws.

"Yuuri, did you drive here?" Viktor asks quietly.

"Parked in the garage," Yuuri mutters into his neck. Viktor has to resist the urge to push Yuuri away, not liking having anyone near his neck. He needn't worry about Yuuri biting him, though. Yuuri isn't a vampire, after all.

They walk together, Viktor's hand resting firmly on Yuuri's lithe waist. After a time, they pass through a darkened stairwell to reach the parking lot, and at the bottom step, Yuuri stumbles and slips from Viktor's grip, landing hard on his knees. He inhales sharply, and instantly, the heavy scent of blood fills the air.

Viktor goes still, staring down at Yuuri, who has cut his hand on a piece of glass on the ground.

"Oh," Yuuri says, staring at his hand. If he were not so inebriated, he might be panicking more, but he merely sounds amazed at the sight of blood welling in his palm. In a smooth motion, Viktor kneels down beside Yuuri and takes his hand, looking at the damage. His mouth has gone dry with _thirst_ , his fangs aching for him to lean down and bite into Yuuri's supple flesh, and yet...

"Oh, Yuuri," Viktor breathes, then lifts Yuuri's hand to his mouth and licks the blood from his skin. He gasps as the ambrosia of Yuuri's blood floods his taste buds, dragging his tongue slowly up Yuuri's palm, seeking every precious drop of the sweet red liquid. As he sucks the sweet blood from Yuuri's skin, he presses his tongue to the shallow wound, letting his power heal the skin. At last he draws away, shuddering at the flavor lingering on his tongue, wondering wildly what it would be like to _bite_ Yuuri.

When Viktor looks up from Yuuri's hand, Yuuri is staring at him wide-eyed, his face a beautiful red. This close, Viktor can smell his desire. For an instant, his eyes flood red, but he turns his face away before Yuuri can see and become afraid. He can only hope that the cloud of alcohol in Yuuri's brain prevents him from remembering this moment.

He could shove Yuuri against the wall right now and devour him whole. Yet... Yuuri doesn't deserve to be claimed in the middle of a dirty parking lot.

Viktor sighs, then gently pulls Yuuri to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Better?" he whispers against Yuuri's ear. After a moment, Yuuri nods, leaning into his side. 

"Take me home, Viktor," Yuuri whispers. Viktor can only obey him.

With Yuuri leaning heavily into his side, nuzzling his face into his shoulder, Viktor fishes Yuuri's keys and wallet out of his pants pocket, ignoring the warmth that seeps through his glove. He proceeds to the parking lot and presses on the unlock button until one of the cars flashes its lights. Gently, carefully, he settles Yuuri into the passenger seat, then slides into the driver's seat. 

Despite being older than the automobile, Viktor can drive, and he usually enjoys it. Yuuri's car isn't the latest model, and it makes a vaguely worrisome rumble when Viktor starts it, but it drives well enough. Soon Viktor is on the road, letting the built-in navigation system guide him to Yuuri's home. 

While he drives, he listens to Yuuri's heart rate even out, and he glances over to see Yuuri leaning against the window, asleep. His lips twitch in amusement, even as his fangs burn with the urge to lean over and bite that succulent-looking neck. He resists, but barely.

Yuuri lives in a quiet little cul-de-sac just outside of Detroit, in a two-story red brick house. Viktor pulls up in front and hears the high pitched barking of a dog inside -- Yuuri's Vicchan, most likely.

Yuuri doesn't stir when Viktor touches his shoulder, so Viktor chooses to gather Yuuri in his arms and carry him to the door, quietly unlocking it. He feels wards on the house, decently strong but not enough to be a bother for him, but he hesitates at the threshold, glancing down at his precious charge. 

"Yuuri, my dear, may I come in?" Viktor asks softly, keeping his allure tightly under control.

Yuuri stirs against his shoulder, breathing in sharply. "Mm? Yeah, okay, Vicchan..."

Viktor takes that as acceptance and pushes the door open. A tiny poodle waits inside, and at the sight of Viktor carrying its master, it barks in protective anger. Viktor narrows his eyes, allowing them to flash red once more.

"Silence, little one. You will wake him." Beneath Viktor's chin, Yuuri sighs. His breath smells sweet with champagne, and his blood calls for Viktor. "Now lead me to his bedroom."

Immediately Vicchan quiets, giving Viktor a suspicious look before backing up and running up a flight of stairs. Viktor shuts the door with a nudge of his foot and follows. 

Yuuri's bedroom is spacious and dark, shadows filling the room with protective silence. Viktor walks to the large bed and gently lays Yuuri down, only for Yuuri to wrap his arms around Viktor's neck and tug him down with him. 

Viktor lets out a little gasp when he ends up kneeling over Yuuri's warm, human body, his lips inches away from the pulse in Yuuri's neck. Yuuri sighs and nuzzles into Viktor's long hair spilling over his shoulder. His fangs ache with a sharp throb of _want_ , and Viktor shudders as Yuuri's warmth presses up against him.

"You're a bad idea," Yuuri says fuzzily, rolling his hips into Viktor's leg. His accent is thicker now, dropping the words thoughtlessly in temptation. "Want it, want you... want to kiss you, Viktor..."

How can Viktor say no to that?

"You are too tempting, my dear," Viktor whispers, tilting Yuuri's head up and capturing his lips in a burning kiss. Yuuri tastes divine, like the headiest glass of blood, of perfection wrapped in a unique flavor that Viktor thinks he could enjoy every day and never become tired of it. Yuuri arches against him, cementing Viktor's desire. He wonders if Yuuri can taste his own blood on Viktor's tongue.

He could claim Yuuri here in his own bed. He could have Yuuri night after night, or he could take Yuuri back to France and devour him thoroughly until all that remains is the sweetest of memories. The laws could do little to him; Yuuri could be _his_. He seems entirely willing, too, moaning into Viktor's mouth with abandon.

And yet, Viktor hesitates.

He wants to savor Yuuri, to consume him, to _own_ him -- and yet some part of Viktor greatly dislikes the thought of hurting him. Disconcerted, Viktor draws away, cupping Yuuri's flushed face with his gloved hand.

"Viktor? Why did you stop?" Yuuri asks, blinking at him. His glasses are askew and his cheeks are flushed, his heart beating loudly in Viktor's ears. Viktor cannot help a smile, even as he aches. 

"You are tempting me," he whispers darkly, kissing Yuuri's sweet lips once more, then gracefully climbing off him. Yuuri tries to hold onto his hand for a moment, and Viktor smiles at him. "You will sleep now, my dear, and dream pleasantly. I will not take what you do not realize you give."

"Mm, but..." Yuuri's yawn interrupts his protestation, and to Viktor's amusement, the moment his eyes close, he is lost to the world.

Viktor watches him for a long time, a shadowed figure that should terrify even the most stalwart of humans, yet Yuuri never stirs in fear of the predator in his room. Finally Viktor stands. He removes Yuuri's shoes, sets his keys and wallet on the dresser, and goes to find some medicine. He leaves the bottle and a glass of water on the table beside Yuuri's bed, then glides downstairs, gently patting Vicchan's head as he passes the little dog snoozing on one of the couches. He makes sure to lock the door as he steps outside, then breathes in deeply. 

Hopefully the long walk back to his hotel will clear his head.

As he steps onto the little road where Yuuri lives, Viktor notices a small sign in one of the yards across the street. He pauses, observing the _For Sale_ sign in front of the red brick house.

His lips curl slightly. Something to consider, depending on the outcome of tomorrow's meeting.

~*~

When Yuuri wakes in the morning, Vicchan is whining into his ear, his nose cold against Yuuri's skin.

"Jus' a minute, Vicchan," Yuuri slurs, then groans as the ache in his head doubles. How much did he drink...? _Why_ did he drink so much? The gala hadn't been that horrible, had it...? His clothes feel stiff, and Yuuri sighs when he realizes he is still wearing last night's suit. The jacket is missing, as are his shoes, and his tie is wrapped around his head. He never changed into his normal sleep clothes.

He must have been drunker than normal. Usually a presentation wouldn't drive him to drink _that_ much...

Yuuri remembers a flash of silver, and his eyes snap open.

_Viktor._

Viktor Nikiforov had been at the gala. He had sat right next to Yuuri and flirted with him all night. They had _danced together._ No wonder Yuuri had drained the bar of champagne -- there was no other way he could deal with both the speech and Viktor's charm.

He struggles for a moment, trying to think past the haze of alcohol in his memories. Viktor had disappeared for a while after dinner -- something to do with politics? -- and Yuuri had been afraid he was going to get into a fight. Yet nothing had happened; instead, when Viktor had returned... they had danced all night. The dancing had been _amazing_ , Viktor spinning him around the room like they were walking on air.

Then... Viktor walked him home? No, to his car. Which Yuuri couldn't have driven, so how did he get home...?

Yuuri hides his face in his pillow for a moment, which makes Vicchan whine again. He reluctantly drags himself up, wincing when sunlight hits his eyes. He climbs out of bed and stumbles to the window, peeking outside to find his car in the driveway, thankfully in one piece. When he turns to look at the bed, Yuuri stops in surprise when he finds a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the bedside table.

_Who...?_

Drunk Yuuri would never have left pills for himself. A worrisome shiver runs up his spine; somebody else was in his house. Who brought him home?

He remembers a flash of silver and red. Viktor, eyes nearly glowing with his lips pressed to Yuuri's hand, dragging his tongue over blood staining Yuuri's skin, never looking away from him. The rush of heat is unfamiliar; the fear almost consumes him, driving him to panic.

Yuuri gasps and looks at his hand. The blood from last night is gone, but a thin scar has appeared in his palm, looking several weeks old rather than a few hours. His memories must be true, then; somehow, Yuuri had cut his hand, and Viktor had tasted his blood.

Surely if a vampire had tasted his blood, then Yuuri would have been...

He ignores the pills and runs to his bathroom. A flick of the switch reveals his reflection, but to Yuuri's shock, his neck is unmarred. Not a single bite mark litters his neck, nothing that looks like the telltale holes of a vampire's bite, even healed. If his knowledge is correct, then Viktor has the power to heal wounds, but not completely -- and so Yuuri would have bite marks.

His neck looks completely normal. Yuuri swallows, then carefully strips off his wrinkled suit and tie, then everything beneath, until he stands nude in the bathroom. He checks every inch.

Not a single bite mark. Viktor never touched him.

Yuuri doesn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

~*~

Five hours after he first sat down with the Crispino-Babicheva clans and their allies, Viktor finally steps into his hotel room. Makkachin pushes past him, having joined him at the meeting, and jumps up on the bed, turning around until she finds a good spot to lie down. Viktor follows wearily, sinking into the plush mattress with a heavy sigh.

Six rogue vampires, and at least four of them had been magicked in some manner.

Viktor groans and covers his face. He does not want to deal with a witch, and yet, that is what appears to be causing this situation. All of the rogues had come from outside the city, merely loners or already lost to their urges, yet only when they entered the city limits did they begin stalking and attacking humans. Viktor had drawn out the spell sigil he had seen as best as he could, but the Minami coven members had not recognized it. Likely an unknown style of magic, or something from the Old World, then.

Minami Chikako had been rather grateful to Viktor for saving her son and promised to search for the meaning behind the spell. Viktor left them to it, more interested in the reports about each rogue from the Crispino-Babicheva's archives. Despite not wanting to be involved with a witch, Viktor dutifully sent off the reports and his own observations to the Council in the middle of the meeting. Their reply arrived not long before Viktor left the clan leaders.

He is to stay in Detroit and investigate further. The clan leaders were relieved; Viktor was curious.

For the foreseeable future, he will remain in Detroit. The investigation could take months, depending on how many more rogues show up in the city limits. The Council has left everything to his discretion, which is in Viktor's favor. He need not work, given the fortune behind his name, but he could easily become bored if he does nothing but wait for something to happen. He also needs a place to live, as well as an explanation for his presence.

Eloy de la Iglesia, a werewolf who leads his shapeshifter clan, suggested that Viktor take a job at or near one of the city's universities, heavily hinting at Wayne State, where his and Minami Chikako's children were enrolled. A guest professor for the semester would be an easy guise to wear, particularly after Viktor told Yuuri about his business contacts in the city. Mostly, the clan leaders want him to stay nearby to protect their children and clan members in case of another rogue attack.

Yet Viktor does not want to teach. Instead, he will rent an office near the university and handle his investigations from there. He might as well offer the supernatural beings in the city some of his expertise to fill the time while he works. The clan leaders accepted his proposal, taking responsibility for setting Viktor up with a business license and procuring an office for him. The new office will be furnished within a few weeks.

For a moment Viktor considers Yuuri, whom he has not seen since the night of the gala, despite the haunting call of his blood from across the city. He wonders how much Yuuri remembers.

Viktor will need to return home to pack and settle his affairs in France, but before then... he might as well start the process of buying a house. As it happens, he knows just where one is up for sale.


	2. tonight, i held you

When he last met Yuuri, Viktor's right-hand glove was stained with a drop of Yuuri's blood.

Viktor can smell it. He first noticed it on the night he walked home from Yuuri's house, breathing in the sweet aroma that clung to him as he thought about Yuuri's warmth and ached. He went out and bought a new pair the next day, sealing away the old gloves in a plastic bag in his luggage. Then he ignored it, focusing on the rush of arranging money, flight tickets, and a house purchase.

That was five weeks ago. Now Viktor is driving down the interstate from downtown Detroit in a sleek black sports car with the top down, freshly bought and packed with shopping bags. His suit is impeccable, a deep blue with a dark violet tie and a pale violet handkerchief, his long hair swept back with a matching ribbon. On his hands are the gloves that he wore the night he tasted Yuuri's blood.

Detroit thinks him charming for his style and long hair. His beauty and money easily pave the way for salespeople to fall over themselves in order to please him. Viktor is glad for it, between all of the preparations for his new house and the amount of shopping he had to do.

He spent one week in France, packing up parts of his manor to install in his house in Dearborn, Michigan, twenty minutes from his new workplace. The rest of the time he has spent as a guest of the Babicheva clan, setting up his new office and meeting the various leaders of the city. 

Viktor now has several contacts in Detroit and the neighboring area, and many of them have taken advantage of his services for dealing with unwanted intruders, such as rogues and rabid shapeshifters. The witches have, so far, not bothered with him, except to give Viktor periodic updates on the spell they are researching that was found on the rogues that Viktor caught.

Two more rogues have made their way into Detroit. One was likely unrelated to the case, given the vampire in question did not let off a flare of magic, and she had once been a citizen of Detroit. The other, though, had exhibited the same strange flare of magic, and Viktor had given the body to the Crispino-Babicheva clans to examine. 

He does not like not knowing. He will figure this case out no matter what.

After a little while, Viktor turns into a neighborhood surrounded by trees and a tiny creek that winds behind the yards. He can hear children playing and humans chattering, enjoying the cloudy weather. He drives until he reaches the tiny cul-de-sac where he now lives, pulling into the driveway of 110 Meadowbriar Lane, a charming redbrick house that sits in a well-to-do neighborhood and conveniently faces Yuuri's residence. He knows Yuuri is not at home; Viktor made sure that he arrived while Yuuri was teaching his one summer class. In the yard is a _Sold!_ sign, and the movers have already dropped off his furniture.

Viktor looks forward to a change, and he likes the idea of Yuuri being part of that change. Still, he does not want to see Yuuri just yet. Somehow, despite closing on the house and spending a lot of time in Detroit, Viktor has managed not to see Yuuri at all, except for one time from a distance. Viktor has been avoiding Yuuri, and he knows it. He almost suspects that Yuuri has been avoiding him as well, except Yuuri could not know that Viktor has remained in Detroit.

He has been thinking about Yuuri constantly, though. The sweet taste of his blood still lingers on Viktor's tongue like a phantom, a lover's kiss forever out of reach. The blood is long gone, and the spot of it in his glove has dried since then, but Viktor can still _smell it_. He can still _taste him._

It might have been a bad idea to move in across the street from the man who gave him bloodlust.

With a sigh that manages to relieve him of his worrisome thoughts, Viktor steps out of the car, sliding his designer sunglasses into his coat and gathering the bags from the backseat and trunk. Makkachin barks at him happily and runs off to sniff around the yard. Viktor walks up to his front door and unlocks it, entering the house and sighing at the clean scent. The company he hired was comprised of only humans, blocking the scents of vampire and shapeshifters out, as well as the stench of magic.

He needs to put wards up first, to keep out any unwanted creatures but still allow for guests of his invitation. With another small sigh, Viktor leaves the door open for Makkachin, who will not roam far. She will let him know if the delivery company arrives while he is busy.

The furniture has been left in their designated rooms, boxes neatly stacked according to their labels. Viktor leaves his bags on the leather couch in the living room and heads up to the second floor. To his relief, all of the rooms are minimally furnished, though he suspects he will rearrange the layout of the office and his own bedroom. The other rooms do not matter to him; he is pleased enough with the work that was done for him.

Viktor exhales, then slides off his suit jacket and hangs it up neatly in the large closet of the master bedroom, along with his tie. Then he rolls up his sleeves and heads downstairs.

Five hours later, Viktor sets the last of his books on his shelves and steps back, smiling at how nice his living room looks. His manor in France and his ancestral home in Russia have long been decorated in the style of their eras, which is Viktor's preference, but he can admit that he likes the modern decorations he ordered. The look of it is crisp and cool, the thick gray curtains blocking out most of the afternoon light, yet several glass lamps bring warmth to the deep grays and blues of the accents.

So engrossed in his activity, Viktor does not realize that his home has a visitor until someone knocks against the open door. "Um, hello?" calls a familiar voice, and something inside Viktor goes hot with interest.

Carefully, Viktor brushes an errant lock of hair from his eyes and turns, stepping into the front hallway. Yuuri stands in the doorway, one hand petting Makkachin while she happily presses to his side. Dark eyes land on Viktor and widen.

"Viktor," Yuuri says blankly, then abruptly goes red, the blood in his cheeks rising up and making him even more beautiful. "It's you. Um, I saw Makkachin, and I thought it couldn't be her, but then she recognized me, and... um..." Yuuri rubs the back of his head, growing more flustered. "It's just, I live across the street, and I saw the house had been sold, and the door was open..."

"Hello, Yuuri," Viktor says with a small smile. "I closed on the house last week, and I have just finished moving in. It seems we are neighbors now."

"Oh," Yuuri says, still staring at him. He clenches one hand at his side -- the same hand that Viktor had his mouth on five weeks ago. "Um, welcome to the neighborhood. Wow, I can't believe you're here. I thought you went back to France."

Viktor chuckles, trying very hard not to breathe in any of Yuuri's scent. He barely succeeds. "I did, actually, just to finish my other projects and pack my belongings. One of my associates convinced me to open up an office here, to establish a threshold in American business, since I do not have much work in France at the moment. I may end up going back occasionally, but my office is already thriving here."

"Office," Yuuri repeats, blinking rapidly. "Oh, um, where's your office?"

"A lovely house on John R Street," Viktor replies, amused at how surprised Yuuri is. "One of my associates was renting out the second floor. I have a reception room and everything."

Yuuri swallows and seems to take a deep breath. Some of the tension in his frame drains, and he meets Viktor's gaze. "That's pretty close to the university," Yuuri says, then starts when Makkachin bumps into his leg and forces him deeper into the house -- closer to Viktor. He blinks down at her, then sighs and looks up at Viktor.

This close, Viktor is well aware of the beat of Yuuri's heart, pumping that sweet, succulent lifeforce through flushed veins. The glove with Yuuri's blood is upstairs, hidden away in a box; Viktor's hands are bare for once. He reminds himself not to touch Yuuri, lest his ice-cold skin shock the poor professor.

He had kept the glove in an effort to normalize the smell, yet Yuuri's presence makes it apparent that Yuuri himself is incredibly tempting, and that nothing can block Viktor's lust for his blood. Viktor can barely resist reaching out to him.

Instead, he smiles at Yuuri. "I apologize for the mess, my dear. I'm waiting on one last delivery before I can put everything away. Please, come in."

"Oh! I shouldn't, I need to get home and feed my dog," Yuuri says, glancing past Viktor into the house, but it looks every inch a normal human home. He has seen Vicchan in the window of Yuuri's house once or twice today. He suspects Makkachin would like to meet the little dog.

"Of course. I simply wanted to apologize for what happened the night of the gala," Viktor says, glancing at Makkachin, who raises her head and trots over to him.

Yuuri's attention snaps back to him. "The gala?" he repeats in surprise. What surprises Viktor is the way he blushes. "Um... I don't remember much of the gala." The words are said in a rush as Yuuri ducks his head in embarrassment.

Viktor stares, then licks his lips. "What do you remember?" he asks carefully.

"Mostly making a fool of myself," Yuuri mutters, then glances up. "A couple things. Dancing and drinking. And I remember tripping, but..."

The way Yuuri squeezes the hand he injured that night is telling. Viktor glances down at the hand, then meets Yuuri's eyes, raising an eyebrow. They lock stares for a long moment.

Viktor wastes no time in slipping into Yuuri's mind, skirting only the surface of his thoughts. The night of the gala stands out in jarring pieces, just as Yuuri said: glasses of champagne, Viktor's tie, the room spinning with music playing, a hand on his waist, a long while waiting in worry. The memories pass in a waterfall of emotions: attraction, lust, anxiety, fear. The most interesting is that the memory of the stairwell and Viktor tasting Yuuri's blood is clear, the red staining his hand overpowered only by the feeling of Viktor's tongue on Yuuri's skin.

Then nothing but an ache.

Viktor gently leaves Yuuri's memories alone and drops his gaze to Makkachin, who seems oblivious to the tension between him and their guest. Yuuri seems to turn red again, and Viktor has to wonder why Yuuri hasn't run screaming from his house, if he remembers Viktor consuming his blood.

No one has pointed out the obvious, yet. Viktor thinks he will wait until Yuuri breaks first.

"We did have champagne, yes. We also danced quite a lot," Viktor says, his smile turning flirtatious. "When the night was over, you were in no shape to handle your car, so I drove you home."

"Oh," Yuuri says softly. He hasn't stopped staring at Viktor. "I was wondering about that. Um... thank you, Viktor."

"You are very welcome, my dear." They gaze at each other for a long moment, before Makkachin begins to nose at Viktor's hand. 

"You could always bring your dog over here," Viktor says, patting Makkachin's head. "I'm sure Makkachin would love to meet him. You said his name was Vicchan, right? I can make dinner for us!"

"Oh, um, I guess? Vicchan... yes," Yuuri agrees, obviously thrown. He hesitates by the door, but Viktor only smiles at him. Finally Yuuri slinks out, pausing on the top step. "Are you sure?" He sounds a little desperate.

Viktor only smiles more. "Absolutely, my dear. My door is _always_ open to you," he purrs, enjoying the way Yuuri's ears turn a delicious red. He waits until Yuuri makes his way down the steps in visible confusion, then casually steps into the kitchen and sags against the wall.

Well, that confirms that Yuuri is interested in him still, and that he _probably_ knows about vampires. Since he hasn't tried to stab Viktor in the chest with a stake yet, Viktor is going to assume that Yuuri is still attracted to him. He smiles in elation, then turns a considering eye on his kitchen.

Cooking for Yuuri -- without any blood. He can do that.

Forty minutes later, the earthy scent of mushrooms fills the house, as a traditional stew simmers on the stove. Viktor's delivery has arrived, and his kitchen is a bit messy, the blood bags hidden away in the freezer downstairs while Viktor slices bread. All of his groceries were supplied by Crispino Services, and so far, the quality has been impeccable. They took his request for traditional Russian ingredients, one of his weaknesses, and fulfilled it admirably. Viktor will have to locate the grocery where they bought everything.

Suddenly, Makkachin stands up from the floor where she has been napping, her nails skittering across the floor as she runs out of the room. Viktor cannot help a smile.

"Viktor?" calls a voice from the hallway, and Viktor lifts his head.

"In here."

A moment later, Yuuri sticks his head into the kitchen, his eyes landing on Viktor and widening. In his arms is tiny Vicchan, who lifts his head at Viktor's scent. Makkachin follows closely at Yuuri's heels, sniffing the little ball of fur with interest.

"Hi," Yuuri says shyly, struggling with both dogs pressing against him. Viktor chuckles and sets down his bread knife, stepping around the counter island where he was working and gently pulling Makkachin back by her collar. Yuuri sighs a little in relief, glancing a few times between Vicchan and Viktor, but Vicchan is more interested in Makkachin than the vampire predator.

Viktor finds himself liking Vicchan. Just as he suspected, Makkachin does as well.

He leaves Yuuri to introduce Vicchan to Makkachin while he continues his final touches on dinner. Two delicate Wedgwood bowls are filled with the fragrant mushroom barley soup, while a tiny dish is filled with sour cream, accompanied by a basket of warm bread. Viktor sets everything on the table, filling two glasses with water.

"I have not had time to go to the liquor store," Viktor says with a bit of remorse. Yuuri has set Vicchan down on the floor and is watching him and Makkachin circle each other, sniffing excitedly. He looks up at Viktor's words, his eyes widening at the meal.

"I really don't need more alcohol," Yuuri says quickly, a blush touching his cheeks. "Besides, I don't drink when I have work the next day." He walks over to stand beside Viktor, who gracefully pulls out a chair for Yuuri to sit. When Yuuri moves to take the chair, his scent washes over Viktor, clean and sweet. His hair is a little damp now, if Viktor looks closely; he realizes Yuuri must have showered.

 _Too tempting._ "Of course, my dear. Please, help yourself."

"This smells really good," Yuuri says, staring at the soup with wide eyes. "What is it?"

"Gribnoy soup," Viktor explains, sitting down beside Yuuri. He wishes he had cleaned himself up as well; he is still wearing the shirt he worked in all day. Though the white cloth has remained spotless, it is messy and creased, stilled rolled to his elbows. Then again, Viktor keeps catching Yuuri's glances toward his bare forearms, which pleases him greatly. "It is traditionally made with dried mushrooms, but I only had fresh ones on hand. Barley, onion, carrots, and celery. The little dish is sour cream."

"Wow... you made this? Viktor, it looks amazing!" Yuuri looks up at him in awe, and Viktor cannot help a smile, pleased and excited that Yuuri gets to try his cooking. He has not cooked for another person -- much less a human -- in far too long.

Viktor wonders if he should be alarmed that he has gone out of his way to please a human. He cannot bring himself to worry about it, not with the way Yuuri smiles at him, so shy and sweet.

"I hope you enjoy it," Viktor says quietly. He watches Yuuri take the first bite with bated breath.

Yuuri lets out the smallest moan, putting a hand to his cheek. "Wow," he sighs, closing his eyes to savor the flavors. Viktor wonders at the pleasure curling around his heart at the sight of Yuuri's appreciation. He ignores the shiver that runs through him at the sound Yuuri makes.

Dinner is a success, if Yuuri's enjoyment of his soup is any indication. Yuuri makes many appreciative noises, to the point that Viktor wonders if he needs to deafen himself to avoid the urge to jump across the table and seal that sweet, noisy mouth with his lips. Makkachin settles down with Vicchan, a lighter counterpoint to his dark curls, and Viktor likes the look of them together. He is glad that Vicchan seems to accept him and Makkachin, as many dogs find offense at their existences.

He wonders again how much Yuuri knows, and whether Vicchan has any familiarity with vampires. He does not ask, though.

Even with the aroma of food, Yuuri's scent cannot be hidden away. Viktor finds his jaw aching from the need to climb across the table and sink his teeth into that delicate neck. He resists, remaining perfectly still as he listens to Yuuri talk. The food relaxes Yuuri, enough that he no longer seems like he wants to run out the door.

Conversation focuses on Viktor's new office and the upcoming semester. Yuuri is anxious about his classes, concerned that Viktor is living near him, and rather attracted to him, but he only talks about the first of his worries. Viktor is enamoured, but he says little about his work, other than business is going well. Yuuri tries his best to learn more.

"So, your business," Yuuri says, chasing a mushroom around with his spoon. "Dispute mediation... you said? Um, what kinds of disputes?"

"All kinds," Viktor replies, amused that Yuuri keeps trying to fish for information with little success. "Sometimes domestic, but mostly between business associates. Conflict resolution, if you will. I have not had any complaints so far."

"So you hear about these... disputes, go in and... mediate them, and everyone's happy?" Yuuri asks, his voice a little strained.

"If my expertise is needed, yes. Sometimes, a few parties are unhappy with the outcome, but on the whole, my clients are quite pleased with my work."

"It sounds dangerous," Yuuri dares to say.

Viktor laughs. "Hardly. I can handle myself with a few argumentative people, Yuuri." He smiles when Yuuri only stares at him, all but sensing how much Yuuri wants to ask more about his work. He can see the knowledge skimming the surface of Yuuri's thoughts -- _Viktor **is** a vampire, right?_ \-- but Yuuri never talks about it out loud.

Viktor finds he rather enjoys Yuuri's frustration.

"Would you like dessert?" Viktor asks at last. Yuuri is quick to shake his head.

"I couldn't. Dinner was wonderful though, Viktor. Thank you for inviting me even though you've just moved in."

"I am happy to cook for you," Viktor purrs. Yuuri turns an interesting red color. "I insist you take home the leftovers, my dear. You can have it for lunch tomorrow and think of me."

Yuuri tries his best to refuse. Viktor pretends to take no notice, packing the remainder of his soup into a large container and setting it into an empty box along with the rest of the bread. Then he picks up the box with one hand and leads Yuuri to the door, smiling all the way.

"Let me escort you home," Viktor says, winking when Yuuri gapes at him. "It is quite late, after all."

Despite his better judgement, Yuuri does not resist. Viktor politely leads him across the street to his door, offering him the box of food as Vicchan scampers into the house. Yuuri takes it in confusion, glancing between him and the containers rapidly, a flush on his cheeks.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around," Yuuri says after a moment, sounding anything but sure about it. Viktor cannot help a smile, a softer one than his usual charming facade.

"I certainly hope so. Good night, Yuuri."

~*~

There is a vampire living across the street.

Yuuri's mother would be ashamed of him. Knowing Viktor and his charm, he would definitely try to trick her, and she would invite Viktor over for dinner and completely beguile him into giving up all his secrets, all the while smiling about it. Vampirism aside, Yuuri's mother would probably like Viktor, if she didn't put a stake in his heart upon first sight. She has always indulged Yuuri on his quest for knowledge about vampires and Viktor in particular, but Yuuri cannot imagine her _approving_ of a vampire living so close to him.

Yuuri decides never, ever to tell her that his childhood crush and her family's ancient enemy is in Detroit. If Katsuki Hiroko herself doesn't come to America to kill Viktor Nikiforov, her parents and siblings would, and Yuuri does _not_ want a Fujiwara family reunion.

For the past thousand years, the Fujiwara family was known for its power and loyalty to the nation, with ties to almost every Emperor of Japan. Little does the public know that when the Fujiwara clan divided into four sects, a fifth division was created and hidden in Saga. 

So began Yuuri's mother's side of the family, which ignored all of the politics of every era and focused solely on _youkai_ extermination. They even developed the sanctuary laws that are popular in major cities now, allowing for the top hunter families in the world to visit any sanctuary city and deal with any problems. If Yuuri hadn't called the Council, the Fujiwara clan would have been next -- though Yuuri doesn't dare bring his mother's family here.

Yuuri's mother was raised in that world, but she left it behind when she met his father and chose not to raise her children to be hunters. Despite that choice, Yuuri grew up with the knowledge of _youkai_ , vampires, demons, and other monsters that lurk in the dark -- particularly Viktor Nikiforov, a personal enemy of the hunter clan.

Three hundred years ago, Viktor Nikiforov sailed into Japan without a single care for its borders or sanctuary laws. He terrorized the nation for months, wandering wherever he wished and draining countless innocents. He met his match in Yuuri's ancestor, who drove him from their lands and swore to kill him should he ever return to Japan, or if he caused mayhem in another sanctuary city.

Yuuri _should_ notify someone in the family that Viktor is lurking around Detroit. Then again... it isn't as if Viktor is anywhere near Japan, and Yuuri isn't even a proper hunter. He never made any hunter's oaths to his family, so he has no responsibility to obey their rules. Viktor has not broken the sanctuary laws, either.

Besides, Yuuri _likes_ Viktor -- which in and of itself is the problem.

He sighs and peeks out his window again. Viktor is not visible, but his front door is open, and Makkachin is sniffing around his yard, happily roaming free. Yuuri briefly debates taking Vicchan out to meet her, but he suspect that Makkachin isn't actually a poodle, and he wonders if she is truly safe around his dog.

She seems so sweet, too. Yuuri really likes her -- and her owner, but he is loath to admit that to anyone, least of all himself.

With another sigh, Yuuri closes his curtains and heads to his office. He should probably write a letter to the Council, too; given they sent Viktor in the first place, surely they would know why he is still in Detroit...? At the very least, he can get some work done while worrying about whether the vampire across the street is going to eat him or not.

~*~

A few weeks pass, while Viktor settles into his new house and job. Since he does not need to sleep as much as a human, Viktor spends most of his daylight hours working on his house, while the night is reserved for business with the various clans in the city.

Two shapeshifters and a witch are hired for Viktor's office, handling phone calls and prospective clients while Viktor is away during the daytime. Viktor will eventually work at the office during the daytime as well, but for now, he primarily handles the vampire population of the city, the vast majority of whom prefer to meet during the night. Despite his cheekiness with Yuuri, Viktor had told the truth; he spends most of his time mediating disputes between vampires, witches, shapeshifters, and humans, as well as other creatures that reside in the city.

The disputes are minor ones. One vampire asks him to kill a witch, which Viktor sympathizes with but refuses. Two vampires claim they have seduced the same human to be their blood source, only for the human to reveal that they chose both vampires in hopes for a threesome. Viktor sends the happy trio off together with a warning to be gentle on the human, who will not be able to sustain both vampires if they both take too much.

The majority of the vampires who belong to the city's clans usually go to through their own internal dispute process, but occasionally, they will come to Viktor when their dispute is with an outsider, or with each other. The shapeshifters begin to use him, too, and to his dismay, he finds many witches on his client list, asking for him to investigate something. Ever since Viktor saved the heir to the Minami coven, he has been very popular with the city's witches.

Viktor finds the work monotonous, but he does it all the same.

In the meantime, Viktor gathers information. He spends hours interviewing anybody who comes forward with claims of seeing the rogue vampires. He reads report after report on territory disputes and claims. He familiarizes himself with the politics of the city, getting to know the major clans that were reported to him by the Council, as well as the minor clans which would also like to have a voice in the interspecies political grounds.

He does not, despite his better wishes, find the witch that is causing the mayhem.

Shortly after he moves into his house, Viktor receives another letter from the Council, demanding to know why he has not resolved the case. In response, Viktor attaches a formal letter from the Crispino clan requesting his assistance as well as his notes on the witch's spell, along with his own scathing letter.

> _Need I remind you that it was your Council that sent me to this city for this investigation? If you do not trust my work, then believe in the needs of our people. A witch is attacking the city using vampires, and I intend to find out why. Perhaps I should leave as you insist and upset the delicate balance between the Crispino and Babicheva clans and their allies. Should I call the Leroys over to deal with it in my stead? There would be no survivors._
> 
> _Cease your attempts at controlling my movements. I shall not like it if I receive any further 'concerns' from my servant again._

The response is been a great deal more submissive in nature, with deep apologies and another weak offer for "assistance." They leave him alone after that.

The whole situation bothers him, but Viktor tries to put it aside for the meantime. Likely, whoever had contacted the Council in the first place was nervous about his presence, but Viktor is here to do a job, not to cause trouble. He takes the Council's further silence as evidence that they have done their best to soothe whatever feathers he ruffled in the first place.

For a few days, Yuuri avoided Viktor like the plague, rarely speaking to him when they crossed paths outside their homes. Not long after Viktor received his last letter from the Council, Yuuri finally unbent from his avoidance stance and greeted Viktor when he stepped outside to get his mail. The shy wave Yuuri sent him as he balanced Vicchan and his mail in his arms made Viktor float through the rest of his night.

After that, it becomes easier to ply Yuuri with food and conversation. Makkachin is all too happy for a playmate when Yuuri has Vicchan out in the yard, and Viktor takes the time -- even when it is sunny and horrifically hot -- to enjoy Yuuri's company. He even manages to lure Yuuri into his home a few more times for dinner, spending much of the meals staring at Yuuri in rapt attention. So far, Yuuri has not revealed the extent of his suspicions, but neither has he shut Viktor out of his life. Viktor hopes that Yuuri continues to seek his company, though sometimes he wishes Yuuri would act on his obvious attraction.

Curiously, no more rogues show up for a while. Viktor remains vigilant, though.

~*~

As summer deepens and begins to recede into autumn, Viktor shifts his schedule to balance his time. Half of his daylight and nighttime hours are spent at work, while the remaining hours of the week are swept up in research or spying on Yuuri. He doesn't need to avoid the sun, which can hurt other vampires, but too much daylight can leave him drowsy and irritable.

On sunny days, Viktor spends his time inside his office. To his dismay, the witch that his office hired is none other than Minami Kenjirou, whom Viktor saved on the night of the gala. Viktor finds him a little too energetic for his tastes, but he has yet to threaten the boy.

"Here are yesterday's requests, Mr. Nikiforov!" chirps Kenjirou, setting the appointment book down in front of Viktor. It is the last Monday in August, and Viktor is very busy.

"Thank you," Viktor says, barely glancing at the list as he writes his report for the Nekola coven. They requested that he submit their petition for an herbal remedy shop to the Minami coven. He did so, and it was approved; now the Nekola witches can have the space to craft and sell their spell components.

Not that Viktor cares. He hates witches. Most of them, anyway. Kenjirou is a little too innocent to hate at this point, and he has promised to keep his magic out of Viktor's office, but Viktor remains doubtful.

"Do you need anything else, Mr. Nikiforov?" Kenjirou asks, shifting his weight nervously. He seems excited, more so than usual. "Only, my shift is nearly over, and Professor Katsuki's seminar is going to start this afternoon."

"I have no need of you," Viktor replies, before his mind catches up with what Kenjirou said. His head jerks up before he can control himself, fixing a stare on the boy. "Did you say Professor Katsuki?"

"You know him?" exclaims Kenjirou, brightening. His sunny smile is enough to make Viktor cringe, but he refuses to show weakness in front of a witch. "That's right! I heard you and Professor Katsuki were together at the gala where you saved my life! I wish I could have seen it... He's so cool..."

Kenjirou sighs with a starstruck look on his face, clutching his notepad to his chest. Viktor narrows his eyes slightly.

"We had a lovely time that night, barring the episode with the rogue," Viktor says slowly. "I wasn't aware you were involved with him."

"He teaches my Criminal Justice classes!" Kenjirou beams, nearly vibrating with joy. He moves with such energy and flair, compared to Viktor's composed mien, that Viktor sometimes gets a headache looking at him. "He's so smart, and he's done so many things, and I love reading his books! It's too bad he isn't part of my coven, because I'd love to know what he thinks of the impact of magic on the prison population! He can't publish anything about the supernatural, but sometimes he talks to us about it after class, and it's always great!"

Viktor tries to follow this exuberant speech, then gives up halfway. He would know it if Yuuri was part of a coven, and he is quite glad that Yuuri isn't.

Though Viktor has long suspected that Yuuri is aware of the supernatural, in the way that he knows that Viktor is a vampire, Viktor is unsure what other knowledge Yuuri has. He appreciates the confirmation from Kenjirou that Yuuri is truly part of the supernatural world. He has yet to ask Yuuri; their conversations have remained entirely focused on work and their dogs (much to his dismay).

"How fascinating," Viktor says lazily, dismissing Kenjirou with a wave of his hand. "Go on to your class, love. I can handle everything else. Give Professor Katsuki my regards, would you?"

Kenjirou blinks, pausing mid-sentence, then brightens again. "Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov! Have a fantastic day!"

Viktor smiles to himself and finishes his report, then picks up the appointment book to examine the list of clients. Two more witches, and the rest are vampires. His shapeshifters will be busy for the full moon, which gives Viktor a bit of relief this week.

~*~

Instead of relief, Tuesday brings something different altogether: namely, Yuuri.

"Mr. Nikiforov," says the human filling in for the werewolf who usually handles Viktor's admin work. She knocks on Viktor's door, making him look up with a small frown. The human, Samantha, has bags under her eyes and wears long sleeves despite the heat outside; he is certain she belongs to one of the vampire clans as a donor, given the scent of blood that clings to her. "A man named Yuuri Katsuki wishes to see you. He isn't on the schedule, but..."

 _Yuuri._ Viktor can _smell him_ from here. Not just Yuuri himself, but also his blood.

Viktor put Yuuri on his approved list of guests weeks ago. He nods, forcing his hands to unclench, and the girl goes to fetch his guest. As he waits, Viktor wonders wildly what Yuuri has done to himself, to cause the smell of blood. Has someone hurt him? Viktor will kill them for daring to touch what should be his.

Viktor still has bloodlust for Yuuri, and the need to taste him is affecting his control. He clears his head, takes a deep breath, and centers himself.

Viktor barely manages not to leap across the room as the girl steps aside, revealing Yuuri himself standing there. Viktor swallows at the sight of him in a button-up blue shirt and loose tie, wearing khakis and carrying a bag over one shoulder. Then Viktor caps his fountain pen and sets it down beside his leather notebook, standing.

"Yuuri, what a surprise. You haven't visited me at my office before," Viktor says, crossing the expansive office space and holding out his gloved hand. Yuuri gives him a slightly wide-eyed look, as if surprised by Viktor's presence, even though he is the one visiting Viktor. He doesn't hesitate to take Viktor's hand, letting Viktor use the pretense to clasp his fingers and raise it for a kiss. The action makes Yuuri blush.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Yuuri mumbles, gripping his bag. "If you're busy..."

"I'm never too busy for you, my dear," Viktor purrs, smiling as Yuuri's gaze darts up to look at him.

"Oh... um. Okay. Well, one of my students told me that he works for you, and I was surprised. I wanted to see for myself," Yuuri says, then clears his throat as he meets Viktor's eyes. "So, hi."

"Hello," Viktor replies quietly, a smile touching his lips, more honest than his usual charm. "Come in, Yuuri. Would you like a refreshment? I have coffee and tea."

Yuuri mumbles something about tea, stepping over to the set of chairs by the window at Viktor's nudge to the small of his back. Viktor walks over to the little table he has set up for this purpose, to serve drinks to his guests and clients if they so desire. He turns on the water kettle and sets it to boil, pulling an intricate ceramic teapot out of a cupboard and dropping an infuser basket into it, then filling the basket with a sweet-smelling blend.

His fingers tremble slightly as he drops the last spoonful into the basket. Viktor has to take a deep, silent breath to control himself, listening to the water begin to bubble.

He can smell Yuuri's blood all too well. There isn't a great deal of it; just a small amount, as if Yuuri cut himself on something and put a bandage on it. Nothing life-threatening, but still, the scent of it calls to Viktor.

He has been craving Yuuri's blood ever since that night at the gala. Viktor has consumed other blood, certainly; he must in order to survive. His supplier always arrives promptly every week on Wednesday morning with his blood bags, which Viktor stores in a freezer in a hidden room in his basement. Viktor has not hunted properly since he came to Detroit; he could, feasibly, go out into the country or to another city without the sanctuary laws... yet Viktor is hesitant.

He would rather drink Yuuri, yet Yuuri is untouchable.

When Viktor sets down the teapot and two cups, along with a small plate of sweets, Yuuri reaches forward to take a cookie. His sleeve pulls up a little, revealing a thick bandage wrapped around his forearm. Viktor almost pauses while pouring tea, but manages not to spill anything.

"What happened to your arm, my dear?" Viktor asks, casual as can be. Yuuri flushes and pulls the sleeve down.

"It's nothing," Yuuri says. He sounds embarrassed more than anything. "I scraped my arm on a nail yesterday when I was in the shed. It's okay though."

"Ah, I hope you got it properly disinfected," Viktor murmurs. He sets down the pot and sits across from Yuuri, realizing he must have been working when it happened. He would have smelled Yuuri's blood the second it was spilled, had he been home. He glances briefly through the thin white curtains covering the window. Today is cloudy; yet Viktor wishes it were nighttime. 

Scenting Yuuri's blood makes him want to go hunt. With reluctance, Viktor decides to do so after Yuuri leaves.

"Yeah, it's fine, it's already healing up... but anyway! Um, I didn't mean to tell you about that," Yuuri says, ducking his head with a little flush. His eyes glance up soon though, fixing on Viktor's face. "I was just curious... Minami Kenjirou told me he works for you. I didn't realize you knew him."

"Yes, he worked for me over the summer, and he decided to keep his hours when the semester started up," Viktor replies, revealing nothing of his knowledge of Kenjirou's witch abilities, nor of the fact that he saved Kenjirou from certain death. "He's a bright boy. I was surprised when he said he was going to your class yesterday."

"Right, well." Yuuri clears his throat again, then picks ups his tea to sip it. He lets out a low, appreciative noise at the taste, which makes Viktor's nerves burn for a moment. "He gave me your message." He glances briefly up at Viktor through his eyelashes, then down at his tea.

Viktor's lips curl slowly. The flirtation between them hasn't slowed, per se, but Viktor has found he missed this odd dance of attraction. He doesn't get to see Yuuri enough to enjoy it. He likes that Yuuri is still interested in him, just as much as Viktor is entranced by him.

"And here you are, visiting me," Viktor murmurs, picking up his tea and sipping slowly, in an attempt to keep himself from reaching for Yuuri's neck. "Not just for your regards?"

"I thought, perhaps," Yuuri says carefully, staring down at his tea, "that it would be better to see you, instead of relying on my student. We don't see each other much, despite being neighbors." Then he looks up, and the fire in his eyes makes a thrill run through Viktor.

He slips into Yuuri's memories.

_Wariness, suspicion, interest, worry. Yuuri texts a friend, then sends a letter to an old address in a book he hides in his closet. They will send an expert, a vampire lord named Viktor Nikiforov. **The** Viktor Nikiforov himself! Yuuri keeps meeting him, this Viktor, this vampire who will deal with the attacks._

_The attacks stop, but Viktor doesn't leave. He moves in next door. Yuuri makes a frantic call demanding why the vampire is staying. They say the attacks haven't stopped, but Yuuri is unsure. He wants answers. He wants to know why everyone seems to trust Viktor._

_Viktor is charming. Viktor is terrifying and suspicious and beautiful, and he lives next door, and it's been two months and he hasn't killed anyone. Yuuri should be afraid but he isn't. Viktor likes Vicchan and makes good food and has the prettiest eyes he has ever seen._

_He finds it suspicious. He finds it exhilarating._

Viktor hears something break. Then, Viktor is shoved out of the memories he was perusing, only to find Yuuri hyperventilating, his hand closed tightly around the amulet that was hidden under his shirt. The piece of gleaming stone is glowing a deep, protective blue.

Viktor blinks a few times, then frowns and sets his tea down. "Yuuri, breathe."

At once, Yuuri takes a deep, shuddering breath, bending over to put his head between his knees. His teacup rests on the floor, broken into pieces. Viktor stands at once and steps around the table, touching his hand to Yuuri's back.

"Deep breaths, just like that, my dear," Viktor murmurs, as Yuuri slowly calms. He listens closely to Yuuri's heart rate, only appeased when Yuuri is no longer gasping for air. Gingerly, he lets go of Yuuri and steps back. "I am sorry for provoking your protections."

"It's okay," Yuuri wheezes, then sits up abruptly to stare at Viktor. "No, wait, it's not. You were in my head!"

Viktor hides a grimace. "Ah, that..."

Yuuri's eyes narrow into a glare. "You were in my head, because you can read my thoughts. I forgot, that's something powerful vampires can do. How many times have you done it, Viktor?"

"Ah, Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, his ancient heart throbbing as his fangs ache, "so you do know the truth."

Yuuri doesn't relax. "Viktor, answer me."

Viktor remains silent, fetching a cloth napkin and kneeling down to blot at the tea stain on his carpet. He picks up the sharp pieces of porcelain and drops them in the trash, then goes to retrieve a new cup for Yuuri, setting it on his saucer and pouring him another cup of tea. Then he returns to his chair and sits, crossing his legs languidly and meeting Yuuri's eyes.

"Tell me," Yuuri demands again, his hand gripping the amulet tightly. Viktor smiles a little, somewhat bewildered with how easily Yuuri is handling this. He hasn't pulled out a weapon or anything -- not that Viktor suspected him of carrying one.

He could fight Yuuri, easily. Yet Viktor does not want that.

"That was the second time. The first was the night I moved into my house and you had dinner with me. I checked your memories to see how much you remembered of the gala. You remembered a few things I hadn't thought you would," Viktor muses, considering. 

Yuuri has gone pale with shock, still clutching the amulet that protects him from Viktor's allure, a sign if Viktor ever needed one. Yet Yuuri does not stand up and run, or try to attack Viktor, or even flail in panic again. 

Instead, Yuuri blinks once, his heart beating a little faster. Then he takes a deep breath. "You mean, about the..." He clenches his hand, then holds it out, his healed palm facing Viktor. "You mean this?" he finally whispers, delicate and nervous at once.

For a moment, Viktor remembers the way Yuuri's blood tasted. His eyes must flash red, because Yuuri goes stiff; yet he still does not run away. Viktor throws his head back and laughs, utterly charmed. "Indeed. You may speak freely about it here, my dear. My assistants already know what I am. They belong to the same world I do, after all."

Yuuri's jaw drops as he stares at Viktor. Ignoring his shock, Viktor picks up his tea again, yet he is no longer thirsty for the dull brown liquid. He wants the rich ambrosia flowing through Yuuri's veins, but he doubts he will ever get to taste it. He will have to leave the city to go hunting after all, after his appointments.

Yuuri swallows audibly. "So, they're... your secretary is..."

"She is filling in for someone. I believe she donates her blood to one of the local clans," Viktor says thoughtfully. "How much do you know about us, Yuuri?"

Yuuri is silent for a beat. "I'm familiar with the Crispino clan, and the Minami coven, and the de la Iglesia pack. I have a lot of students... well, they're involved in some way. Minami-kun is one of them. You know about him?" For someone who is confronting a vampire, Yuuri is remarkably calm. He hasn't once thrown his tea or started panicking.

Viktor smiles a little. "I know about young Kenjirou, yes. His mother was very grateful to me after I saved his life from the rogue vampire that attacked during the gala."

"During the gala?" Yuuri repeats, his voice going high with worry. "So there was an attack! Is Minami-kun alright?"

"I took care of it during the time I left you alone," Viktor says, a soothing note to his voice. "Kenjirou was being assaulted at the time, and I stepped in before he was killed. The rogue was handled easily."

"Right." Yuuri swallows, then meets Viktor's eyes boldly. Viktor resists the temptation to look into his memories again; the protection on Yuuri's amulet must be strong, if it caused a physical reaction in Yuuri. "I know enough. What I don't know is why you're still here. I thought the other vampires, the rogues -- I thought they were dead."

"They are," Viktor agrees peacefully. "However, there may still be more. There is also a separate issue involving those miscreants. As it happens, they seem to be controlled by a magic user, and we have yet to find the witch or uncover the spellwork the witch has used to control the rogues. As such, the political leaders of the city have requested that I continue to monitor the borders and deal with any other pests that invade or try to attack. In the meantime, they are happy to make use of my skills as a dispute mediator."

Viktor's lips curl when Yuuri blinks at him, visibly thrown by the honest words. He lets Yuuri digest that for a little while, turning his gaze to the cloudy sky outside. With any luck, no rogue should strike the city tonight. Viktor will need to travel far away from Detroit in order to hunt. Otherwise, he will simply follow his urges back to Detroit, to his home, to Yuuri's house.

To Yuuri's blood.

Viktor wisely decides that Yuuri does not need to know how Viktor lusts for him. It would upset him, more so than what has already been revealed.

"Okay, wait," Yuuri says, a little helplessly. "That's what they meant? Um, the people I contacted, they're the ones who sent you... right? The Council?"

"Mm, they are," Viktor agrees.

"They said the attacks hadn't stopped, but they wouldn't explain why. There's a witch involved? How is a witch involved with vampires? I thought you hated each other," Yuuri says, letting go of his amulet and running a hand through his hair. Viktor takes note of how Yuuri says _you_ in regards to the witches, hopeful that using such a word means that Yuuri is not a witch himself.

"We do."

"Oh." Yuuri blinks at him, then frowns again. "But you have Minami-kun working for you."

"Indeed," Viktor says wryly. "He volunteered for the position. I would not have hired him, but like I said, his mother was absurdly grateful that I saved his life, and Kenjirou has taken a shine to me. I have tried to convince him otherwise, but the boy is determined to stay. He performs adequately for the job."

Yuuri stays quiet at that, visibly bewildered, yet he doesn't protest again. Viktor considers Yuuri's confusion, then bends a little, content to give him what he wants to know.

"Of the nine rogues from the past six months, eight have been bespelled by some sort of magic that locks away their memories and drives them into the city to hunt. I have been unable to identify the magic. The Minami coven is researching it at the moment. Once we identify the spell, a team of witches can use their skills to track the magic back to its caster, and I will deal with them. They have broken the sanctuary laws, so their guilt has already been determined."

Yuuri nods slowly as he absorbs the information. After several minutes, he picks up his tea and drains the cup, then leans forward to stare at the table, obviously not seeing what is in front of him. Viktor watches his fingers as Yuuri rubs his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Soon his gaze clears, and he looks up at Viktor again, nervously touching his fingertips together between his knees.

"Okay... I understand all that. That's... fine. I just -- I'm confused about some other things. Mostly..." Yuuri runs a hand back through his hair, then meets Viktor's eyes with a faint blush. "You moved in next to me. Why? You're not hunting me, are you?"

Viktor blinks once. "Hunting? No, of course not, my dear. I am..." He frowns a little as he searches for the right word. The hunt is something else altogether, and what he wants from Yuuri is unlike anything he has felt before. "I am pursuing you," Viktor finally says, the word settling with meaning. He doesn't miss the way Yuuri's eyes widen, pleased that Yuuri reacts with flattered embarrassment instead of abject fear.

"In your memories," Viktor says after a moment, when Yuuri doesn't speak, "I saw that you did not recall everything that happened on the night of the gala. You remembered my enjoyment of your blood, but not the fact that I brought you home afterward. Your home had little protection against me, after I asked permission." He _tsks_ softly, earning a frown. Yuuri's face is red again, blossoming as soon as Viktor mentioned tasting his blood.

"I had protections. I _have_ them! What do you mean, when you asked permission?" Yuuri demands. Yuuri still seems frazzled, and Viktor is aware of how his words are affecting the young man. He rather enjoys the reactions, but for some reason, he doesn't like seeing Yuuri so tense and upset.

"I asked you for permission to enter your home, and I was able to," Viktor replies, raising an eyebrow. The wards he had felt that night hadn't resisted him after Yuuri gave permission to enter the house. Perhaps they were intention-based as well as creature-based. "I took you upstairs and put you to bed. I did nothing untoward. You fell asleep, and I left."

He does not tell Yuuri about the kisses they shared, nor the way Yuuri invited him into his bed, soft and welcoming and warm with sleepy lust. His expression remains smooth and calm, and Yuuri does not hear the second truth hidden beneath his honest words.

Yuuri grimaces, picking up his amulet again and flipping the charm around, distracted. "I'll have to get the wards looked at. You shouldn't have been able to come in," Yuuri mutters.

"I would recommend it," Viktor says, chuckling. "It would be terrible if another vampire got into your home. I would paint your walls with their blood."

Yuuri stiffens with shock, his eyes darting up and meeting Viktor's placid gaze, widening. Viktor does not feel calm at the thought, though; he would destroy any creature that went after Yuuri.

"What did you mean by pursuing?" Yuuri asks, his voice a little strangled.

As Viktor opens his mouth to reply, his mien briefly darkening, a knock sounds at his door. Yuuri startles badly, and Viktor sighs.

"Come in, Samantha."

His temporary secretary opens the door, looking hesitant. "Mr. Nikiforov, I'm sorry to disturb you, but your next appointment is here. You told me to show her in as soon as she arrived."

"Yes, indeed," Viktor allows, glancing at Yuuri briefly before standing. "Yuuri, I am sorry, but I must take care of this. You are welcome to return tomorrow, if you wish to speak more --"

"Tonight," Yuuri interrupts, standing suddenly. He wavers briefly, then clenches his hands at his sides and looks up at Viktor. "Your house. I'll come over, and we'll talk."

Viktor considers his appointments, which do not go past seven this evening, as well as his commitment to a proper hunt. Then he takes in the way Yuuri's eyes are flashing, spectacular in his determination, and suppresses a shiver.

"As you wish, my dear," Viktor murmurs, and he is rewarded by Yuuri's wide-eyed blush before he grabs his bag and flees the room.

~*~

Viktor hums as he pours crimson liquid from a crystal decanter, swirling around the blood before taking a sip. The flavor warms his tongue for a brief moment, giving Viktor a bit of courage to see through the evening. If he can finish the night without biting or killing Katsuki Yuuri, then he will deserve a gold medal for his astounding control. He has already consumed blood in hope that his hunger will be abated long enough to avoid attacking Yuuri.

Yet he thirsts, anyway. His eyes have bled red, which is just as well; Yuuri would not prefer the illusion of humanity tonight.

With a sigh, Viktor returns to the kitchen to put the last touches on an elegant meal of herb-crusted lamb and gently sauteed vegetables. He can hear Yuuri leaving his house now, firmly telling Vicchan to stay put. Disappointing, because Makkachin would love to see Vicchan -- but Yuuri likely does not want to bring his dog into a vampire's home at this time. 

The blood is finished by the time Yuuri knocks on his door, the glass rinsed and set away. Viktor sets their plates down in the dining room, then walks down the hall to the door. For once, his hands are bare; he wears only a button-up shirt and vest, his slacks neatly pressed as always. Makkachin runs to the door with a happy bark, sensing Yuuri on the other side, and Viktor suppresses a small, sad smile. Whatever else, he knows that Yuuri likes Makkachin, and that Makkachin loves Yuuri. He hopes that does not change.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door. Yuuri frowns at him when their eyes meet. His amulet is visible, as is the gun holster under his arm, peeking out from under his jacket. Viktor holds Yuuri's gaze, interested that Yuuri has come armed.

Sensible. Regrettable, but also curious. He wonders if Yuuri, perhaps, has been trained by hunters, or is one himself. He does not recognize _Katsuki_ as a hunter clan, though.

Yuuri, at least, has the good sense to wear more than one weapon. A large, curved blade is hidden beneath his jacket, fastened at his waist, but Viktor notes it without drawing attention to it. He suspects Yuuri has bullets hidden away as well, perhaps even other weapons, but Viktor pays it no mind. Instead, he gives Yuuri a smile and steps back, inviting him in.

"You're just in time for dinner, Yuuri," Viktor says, as Makkachin rushes forward and licks happily at Yuuri's hand.

Torn between the enthusiastic dog and keeping Viktor in his line of sight, Yuuri flails a little. "Um, dinner? But I wanted to talk. Hi, Makkachin," Yuuri says to Makkachin, leaning down and receiving a lick on the cheek for his trouble.

Viktor laughs and closes the door after Yuuri steps in, ignoring the way Yuuri stiffens as he leans in close. "We can talk and eat at the same time. Makka, down." 

Makkachin obeys and leads the way to the dining room, giving Yuuri another lick before trotting off to her own dish, filled with lamb as well, though perhaps less ostentatious. Viktor poured all of his French culinary training into tonight's dish, hoping to impress, and the way Yuuri's eyes widen and his stomach growls leaves him gratified.

"It's not poisoned, is it?" Yuuri asks warily. Viktor laughs.

"I'm not a witch, Yuuri. I do not need to poison a person to deal with them. The ingredients are simple: garlic, herbs, red wine. I would offer something to drink with it, but it is a school night, and you told me you do not drink before work."

Yuuri narrows his eyes a little, not replying, and Viktor smiles, beguiling. "Would you rather try to stab me before we eat? I would prefer you wait. The lamb will taste best warm."

"Stab you?!" Yuuri looks appalled at the thought, but his hand reaches for the knife at his waist. "I wouldn't! I just want to talk!"

Viktor looks pointedly at the knife, and Yuuri flushes.

"That's... just in case," Yuuri mutters. Viktor chuckles and holds his hands out to take his jacket. Yuuri hesitates, clearly not wanting to relinquish anything to a vampire, and Viktor sighs. 

"Does your jacket have any garlic I should be aware of? Are you wearing a cross tonight?"

"You know garlic doesn't work on vampires," Yuuri mumbles, before sliding off his jacket and reluctantly handing it over to Viktor, who carries it out of the room to hang it in the closet. He takes a brief moment to mourn the easy camaraderie between them, lost to Yuuri's suspicions, then fortifies himself. When he returns, Yuuri has knelt down to study Makkachin with a small frown.

"She's not a normal dog, is she?" Yuuri asks quietly. Viktor smiles, pleased with Yuuri's insight.

"She is a Domovoy from my home country. She used to guard my house, but when I began to travel, she elected to guard me instead. She likes canine forms the best, but once she manifested as a bear, which was quite interesting."

"Domovoy," Yuuri repeats quietly. Makkachin lifts her head, then whines in her throat and licks Yuuri's cheek, making him smile a little. "I've read about them, but I've never met one before. I thought they were house spirits."

Viktor truly wonders what education Yuuri must have had, to know so much about his world. "They are, but sometimes they grow powerful enough to change. For Makkachin, I am her home. She goes with me everywhere."

Yuuri's gaze flicks up to his. "Does that mean you don't have a home?"

Viktor blinks slowly, stunned more than anything, even as Yuuri goes tense at the possibility of offending his vampire host. After a moment, Viktor merely smiles and pulls out one of the chairs at the table, offering it to Yuuri. After a brief staring contest, Yuuri rises and moves to sit down, while Viktor pushes in his chair for him. He almost reaches down to touch Yuuri's shoulder, then reconsiders, Yuuri's heat inches from the ice of his skin.

He shakes his head then moves to sit at the head of the table. " _Bon appétit,_ " Viktor murmurs, then begins to eat. His lamb is much rarer than Yuuri's, owing to his personal preference, but the meat is mostly devoid of blood, the mark of a good butcher. Yuuri watches him carefully for a moment, then sighs heavily and cuts into his own meal.

The noise he makes at the first bite sends a shiver through Viktor. The silence stretches as Yuuri eats more, while Viktor paces himself, wishing for the easy conversation they used to have. He has no idea what the future holds; he doesn't want to hurt Yuuri, but Yuuri has given him no clues as to what he truly thinks.

Soon, Yuuri broaches the topic of earlier: the cases of the rogue vampires. Viktor gives him as much information as he dares, not holding back on the details that the Crispino and Babicheva clans gave him, nor of the encounters he has had with the rogues. Yuuri asks intelligent questions, reflecting his education, and when they have fully discussed the case as Viktor understands it, he looks troubled.

"You just have the clans and the Minami coven helping you, right?"

"And de la Iglesia's pack. I understand they have a few of their children enrolled at the university."

"One's in my graduate class," Yuuri mutters, then sighs deeply. "I just don't like that you don't have a lot of support. It's worrying that this is happening... Don't the clans have connections with the police?"

Viktor lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "If they do, they have not shared that information with me. I suspect there are a few shapeshifters in the force, but none who have worked on these cases."

Yuuri frowns, then looks determined. "Well, I know someone. I've worked with the police department before, so I can offer my time again."

Viktor blinks once. "Yuuri, you do not need to do such a thing. This is not a human venture. Humans will only cause more trouble, and you should not put yourself in harm's way by becoming involved in an official capacity."

Yuuri shakes his head. "Let me at least try. I mean, my friend is the one who told me it was vampires in the first place, which is why I sent the letter. So..."

"As you wish," Viktor says after a long moment, displeased, but he can see that Yuuri will be stubborn about this. Having an ally in the police force will be beneficial, he has to admit; yet he does not want _Yuuri_ involved, for his own safety.

Soon they finish their meals, and whatever other thoughts are stewing inside Yuuri finally come to the surface when his contemplative mien sharpens to something more serious.

"This was really good," Yuuri says quietly, staring down at his empty plate. "You cook human food... yet you're a vampire. I don't understand."

"Call it a whim," Viktor says with a quiet laugh. He does not want to get into his centuries of boredom and other feelings best left alone. "I have many guests who are not vampires, so I have learned the culinary arts in order to be a good host. It is not that important."

"But it is," Yuuri blurts out, reddening as he glances up, but he doesn't look away from Viktor. "I want to know everything about you. Why you're here, why you cook, what you like to do... I want to know, Viktor. I want to know every reason why I should trust you, when all of my senses are telling me that you should be a monster."

Viktor stays silent for a long moment, surprised once more. Some old feeling creeps into his heart, spurred on by Yuuri's earnestness, but Viktor does not bother to name it. "You have every reason to believe me a monster," Viktor says quietly. He sets his fork down and leans forward. "I am a monster. I am not some unfortunate who needs to be guided to the light. I am a vampire, and quite willing to behave like all of my most bloodthirsty peers. By every right, you should take that gun and the silver bullet loaded into its chamber and shoot me between the eyes."

Yuuri recoils with horror, then abruptly stands up and pulls the holster off his arm, then the knife off his belt. He sets both down hard on the table, startling Makkachin who lifts her head, barking at the noise. Yuuri doesn't take his eyes off Viktor.

"You could have killed me that first night, sanctuary laws be damned," Yuuri breathes. "But you didn't. I had fun with you. That night, it was... it was _good._ You tasted my blood, and you didn't kill me. If you're such a monster, then why haven't you hurt me?"

Viktor stays silent for a long moment, then slowly stands. He crosses the room and reaches down to line up Yuuri's weapons neatly while avoiding the silver hilt, absently drawing one pale finger down the knife's sheath. Then he meets Yuuri's eyes. His charm is gone, left shaken by Yuuri's honesty. He could bite Yuuri right now. He could kill him; yet he does not dare to hurt him. He wants none of Yuuri's pain; only his pleasure.

He holds out his hand, his family ring glinting, as the light catches on the faceted aquamarine surrounded by diamonds. Yuuri swallows, then sets his hand in Viktor's icy fingers, flinching only slightly at the cold. Viktor reaches with his other hand to pull up Yuuri's sleeve, revealing the wound he smelled earlier. The long wound takes up half of Yuuri's forearm, covered in bandages.

With gentle fingers, Viktor unties those bandages, the bloody white strips unraveling to the floor. Then he leans down and kisses the soft skin on the inside of Yuuri's wrist. He glances up to meet Yuuri's eyes, hearing the fast beat of his heart, the flush in his cheeks. He digs his finger in slightly, dragging the skin enough to break open the cut. Then he slowly runs his tongue up the wound, groaning as he tastes Yuuri's blood once more.

Just a hint. Just enough.

The enzymes in his saliva leave the wound to close quickly until barely a scar remains. Satisfied, Viktor straightens, his hold on Yuuri as gentle as can be, yet Yuuri does not break away from him. Yuuri is breathing harshly, color high in his cheeks, his eyes wide and large behind the lenses of his glasses.

"Because your blood sings to me," Viktor whispers into the quiet, his answer to the question Yuuri all but shouted at him. "Because you laughed when I told you a joke. Because you danced with me, and because on the night I could have killed you, you kissed me instead. You saw the monster in my heart, and you did not fear me."

Yuuri's heart gives a small lurch. "Kissed?" he repeats, a whisper barely louder than Viktor's voice.

"I could have had you that night," Viktor muses. "You were drunk; you would not have remembered. You pulled me into your bed and kissed me so brazenly, so sweetly. Yet that is not what I wanted, nor what you deserved, so I left you." He lets go of Yuuri's hand with a sad smile, expecting him to stumble away and run out the door.

Instead Yuuri lurches forward, grabs him by the shirt, and kisses him.

Viktor stands completely still, stunned beyond his expectations. He never imagined Yuuri would make the first step -- especially not after confirming that Viktor is a vampire. 

Then Yuuri opens his mouth and drags his tongue across Viktor's lips, and the last veneer of Viktor's control snaps. He parts his lips and invades Yuuri's hot mouth, setting out to conquer, pushing the battle for dominance into Yuuri's domain. Yet Yuuri does not give up easily; he fights back with soft sighs and groans, his hands scrambling to touch Viktor's chest, then up to his head to thread through his hair.

Yuuri tastes _divine_ , like Viktor has been parched for centuries and has just swallowed his first drop of blood. No human has ever fascinated Viktor so, and he aches for more of Yuuri's sweet sounds and taste, not just for the blood in his veins but his _mouth_ , his skin, the desire building between them. Now that Yuuri is kissing him... Viktor no longer needs to hold back.

Viktor grasps Yuuri's hips and pushes him backwards, moving with him until Yuuri reaches the table, never breaking their kiss. He bends Yuuri backward over it, the plates and glasses rattling as Yuuri's back hits the edge. Yuuri breaks the kiss with a gasp, looking up at Viktor, who grins at him and slides his hands under Yuuri's thighs to lift them up, urging Yuuri to wrap his legs around Viktor's waist.

"Look at you," Viktor croons, catching Yuuri's wandering hands and entwining their fingers. He loves how Yuuri flushes beautifully at the tone in his voice, helpless to stop himself from kissing Yuuri's hand. "You look just as you did that night... flushed pink and needy. I could have had you. I would have drained every drop from you and mourned for centuries afterward."

Yuuri breathes in sharply, some of the arousal fogging his gaze clearing away at the subtle threat, but instead of flinching back, he arches a bit off the table. "Why didn't you?" he breathes.

"Because I could not bear to see you extinguished. All this vitality... you sing of life and passion, my dear," Viktor murmurs, then turns Yuuri's hand around to kiss the inside of his wrist. His fangs scrape Yuuri's delicate skin, and Yuuri gasps, his pupils dilating at the feeling.

"Why don't you now?" Yuuri is unable to take his eyes off Viktor.

Viktor chuckles lowly, leaning down to press slow, teasing kisses to Yuuri's arm, tracing the tiny scar left in his skin. "Because the law says I cannot, of course."

Yuuri scoffs, a strangled, beautiful noise. "You don't seem like the type of person to follow the rules, Viktor."

"I am curious as to why you think that... but you are correct. Normally, I care not for silly laws that limit me," Viktor replies, straightening up and setting Yuuri's hands on the table. Yuuri grips the white tablecloth, his legs tightening around Viktor as if afraid he will step away, and Viktor gives him a reassuring smirk before dragging a long, cold finger up Yuuri's chest. 

"I've heard of you. Viktor Nikiforov... Vilikaila," Yuuri whispers. In a flash, Viktor has caught Yuuri by the neck, yet his grip is gentle for all that he has leaned in to hold Yuuri's gaze, his hair spilling over his shoulder in a silver fountain. Yuuri freezes, yet he does not seem afraid, studying Viktor with large eyes.

"Tell me where you heard that name."

"My family," Yuuri manages to say, and Viktor loosens his grip just enough for Yuuri to speak. "They... they hunt. It's my mother's family -- I took my father's name because I didn't want to be a hunter. When I was a kid, my mother had books... they mentioned you. They said you were one of the oldest and most powerful of vampires, and that you could not be killed. I..." Yuuri blushes deeply. "I liked reading about you."

After a long moment, Viktor lets go of Yuuri and stands up, his hands settling on Yuuri's waist. He can hear the truth in Yuuri's heartbeat and the lack of artifice in his words. He remains silent, turning Yuuri's words over and over to find meaning in them, because he cannot believe that Yuuri has looked up to him for so long. A hunter's child fascinated by a vampire... it seems laughable.

Yet Yuuri is here in his arms. Willing and ready for Viktor to claim him, if his body language is any indication.

"You recognized me when I came here." Viktor's soft words leave no argument, and Yuuri nods, swallowing again. Viktor could easily kill him like this, and Yuuri can do nothing to stop him. He suspects Yuuri realizes this, with the way his heart beats fast, like a rabbit caught in a predator's gaze. Yet still, _still_ Yuuri does not run.

"Sanctuary law dictates that I may not drink your blood nor harm you without your permission, rendered in a contract with a witness and a notary," Viktor says slowly, thoughtfully. "Yet you tempt me. My sweet, seductive Yuuri... perhaps courting to me to my own death? If I break the law, they would banish me, or worse yet, attack me. Is this a trick, my dear Yuuri?"

Yuuri's eyes widen with shock. "No, I don't want that," he all but shouts, then flushes pink. "It isn't a trick. I always looked up to you. It's why I couldn't be a hunter, because I don't want to kill anyone."

"Yet you show up with weapons," Viktor replies, glancing at Yuuri's side, where he could easily reach his gun and knife.

Yuuri shakes his head. "My friend told me to bring them. I didn't really want to, because I haven't kept up with practicing, and..."

"You should," Viktor murmurs, smiling at Yuuri's startled look. He puts away the thought of Yuuri telling a friend about this meeting, a wise action for a human meeting a vampire. "With the number of rogues attacking the city, you need every protection, my dear. I will inquire after a reputable firing range for you in the morning. Perhaps one of the clan leaders knows of a place where you can spar others... or perhaps, you would like to spar with me?"

The way Yuuri's heart quickens and his gaze widens makes Viktor's mouth go dry. "That's, um..." Yuuri takes a deep breath. "We can talk about that later." Then he pushes himself to sit up, reaching up to slide his arms around Viktor's neck. Viktor's hands drop to Yuuri's waist, a pleasing curve beneath his shirt.

"Viktor," Yuuri says firmly, "what if I asked for more?"

Viktor closes his eyes briefly. Yuuri's lips are inches away; he wants nothing more than to claim them again. "Sanctuary for vampires is the same as sanctuary for humans. I must never hurt you."

Yuuri closes the distance between them, his lips teasing Viktor's, still flushed from their activity earlier. His words are but a kiss away. "What if I want to be hurt?"

Viktor cannot resist a growl, surging forward and kissing Yuuri deeply. He soon has Yuuri whimpering against him, his legs locked tight around Viktor's waist, moaning around Viktor's tongue. After a long, pleasant moment, Viktor lets him breathe, slipping cool fingers under Yuuri's shirt to tease his spine.

"You tempt me, my dear... my lovely Yuuri. Unfortunately, for any sort of relationship past simple intimacy, we must have a contract, my dear, and a witness... and I wish not to share this vision of you with anybody. So for now... no biting. But I may pursue you in other ways."

"Pursue me," Yuuri breathes, his eyes fluttering open. He is hard against Viktor's hip, and Viktor has stirred as well, his body flushing to match Yuuri's temperature. "Fine. I'll take simple intimacy for now. If it means you'll consider more."

"You _tempt_ me," Viktor groans, sliding one hand through Yuuri's thick hair and pulling his head back, so that he may press delicate kisses to the sweet skin of Yuuri's neck. Yuuri's pulse is a siren lure to his desire. Viktor's teeth _ache_ with the need to bite, yet his control is ironclad.

"Viktor," Yuuri gasps, undulating his hips against Viktor, Viktor lets go of his hair and pushes Yuuri back down to the table, deftly unpopping the buttons of Yuuri's shirt and jeans. Yuuri cries out when Viktor unsheathes his leaking cock from his boxers, his hands flying to grasp the edge of the table. 

Viktor drags his fingers up Yuuri's cock, admiring how pink and flushed Yuuri is now. He is too much of a gentleman to pull himself out to join Yuuri, but his desire to touch Yuuri, to pleasure him, is too strong for him to resist. His pants are tight, his own cock rock hard and pressing insistently against Yuuri's leg, but he ignores it, focusing on Yuuri's soft panting. He has not been so desirous for another person in a long time, let alone a human -- let alone a _hunter's child._

His lips curl with pleasure. He likes the idea of corrupting Yuuri away from that side of their lifestyle. Oh, if he could turn Yuuri into a vampire...

"Viktor, what about you?" Yuuri whispers, arching off the table as Viktor tightens his grip to squeeze Yuuri. Viktor pauses, heat swelling up inside him at the insinuation that Yuuri wants him to join, imagining spreading Yuuri out on his bed like this. He could take Yuuri upstairs to his large bed and tease him mercilessly; he could have Yuuri all night...

"This is for you, my dear," Viktor murmurs, his lips twitching into a smile when Yuuri frowns. He shudders as Yuuri's heels dig into his back, his hips undulating against Viktor's swollen cock in his pants. Yet Viktor refuses to give in, his eyes fastened to Yuuri's face to see every second of his pleasure.

Yuuri cannot look away from him, tiny whimpers and moans falling from his pink lips like prayers. His voice sounds like heaven to Viktor, who wants to hear more; he wants to hear Yuuri screaming his name, begging for his attention and love.

_Love..._

Viktor shakes off the thought and reaches up to Yuuri's mouth, catching his gaze for a moment before pushing two fingers inside. Yuuri takes them both with a moan, sucking eagerly until Viktor's fingers are wet enough. When Viktor removes them, Yuuri catches his palm and drags his tongue across the pale skin, holding Viktor's gaze as he scrapes blunt human teeth along the tender skin inside Viktor's wrist.

Viktor sees stars. He wraps his thoroughly wetted hand around Yuuri's cock again and moves to grip Yuuri's hip, sliding his hand up and down Yuuri's cock with a tight squeeze every time. Yuuri cries out, throwing his head back and lifting his hips in time to Viktor's movements, giving Viktor the perfect view of his bare neck, soft and supple and just begging to be bitten.

He resists. Instead he leans down and sucks one of Yuuri's nipples into his mouth, lathering it with attention. The sensations prove too much for Yuuri, who lets out a strangled scream and seizes up against Viktor, his cock pumping hot strips across their stomachs. Viktor does not stop touching him, instead speeding up his hand, using Yuuri's come as lube.

Yuuri gives one last, weak moan, his final moment of pleasure leaking onto his stomach. Viktor swallows, wanting to lean down and lick every bit of his seed up, but he resists. He watches Yuuri for a little while, as Yuuri catches his breath, his dark eyes closed. When Yuuri opens his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, Viktor averts his stare. 

Instead, Viktor gazes down at the result of Yuuri's lust, touching his fingers to Yuuri's bare stomach and swirling them through his come. Yuuri twitches, his gaze snapping downward, and he gives a weak moan at the sight.

"Marked for me," Viktor whispers, leaning down to taste Yuuri's sweet mouth again, their kiss hidden by the fall of his hair. He drinks in the whisper of his name from Yuuri's lips, thinking of all the ways he can have Yuuri properly, now that Yuuri has given Viktor permission to seduce him.

"You wish to know what I meant by pursue? My dear Yuuri... _everything._ To hold you every night. To kiss you every day. To court you and romance you... to seduce you into my arms. To _have_ you."

Yuuri's only response is a whimper.

~*~

While Yuuri showers, Viktor stands in the middle of his bedroom, rolling a single black glove over in his hand, before he slides it on. Finally, he brings it to his mouth, breathing in the tempting scent of Yuuri's blood, along with the traces of Yuuri's seed still on his palm. Then he unbuttons his pants, taking himself out and fisting his cock slowly. He closes his eyes and listens to Yuuri's heartbeat in the next room.

Viktor cannot resist thrusting as he remembers how Yuuri moaned for him, how Yuuri's scent still clings to him. All it takes is the memory of Yuuri's throat, pale and supple and begging to be bitten, and he spills into his gloved palm with a muffled groan.

Viktor cleans himself up before Yuuri finishes his shower. Then he ushers Yuuri home, taking advantage of Yuuri's embarrassment to avoid questions about his own climax, his hand lingering at the small of Yuuri's back. He pauses at the property line, taking a moment to examine the wards on the house and raising an eyebrow. Yuuri must have had someone come by to renew them earlier. They do not seem to bother him, though, perhaps because Yuuri has already welcomed him into his home. 

"Your wards are very good," Viktor comments quietly when they stop outside Yuuri's door. He slips a small card into Yuuri's pocket. "If you see anything strange, be sure to call this number. They will pass on the information to the Babicheva and Crispino clans."

Yuuri gives him a puzzled look. "Why can't I just tell you directly?"

Viktor meets his gaze briefly, his eyes glowing in the night. How Yuuri isn't terrified is anybody's guess. "I will be out of town for a short while, for an unavoidable reason. Please look after yourself in the meantime, my dear. My secretary will forward some information on firing ranges for you tomorrow."

"What? Where are you going?" Yuuri asks, his eyes widening. "Is everything alright?"

Viktor smiles half-heartedly. "Everything is fine, my dear," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Yuuri's soft, worried lips. "Just a meeting. Make sure you begin carrying your weapons with you when you go to work."

"I can't carry weapons on campus," Yuuri mumbles, then leans in to kiss him more surely. He ends up backed against his door as Viktor cages him in, teasing those sweet whimpers from his mouth as he licks his way inside.

"I've got to go to bed," Yuuri gasps, turning his head away. "Viktor, um..."

"As you wish, my dear." Viktor chuckles and releases him, stepping back to a more proprietary distance. "Good night, Yuuri. May you have sweet dreams and easy rest," he murmurs, touching his fingers to Yuuri's pink lips.

"Good night, Viktor," Yuuri whispers, never looking away from him, until Viktor lets him go and finally leaves.

Viktor makes sure he does not look back, though even when he reaches the safety of his own walls, Yuuri's heart still beats in his ears.

Viktor packs little, only a spare change of clothes in case he is too violent with his hunt. He leaves Makkachin with instructions to keep an eye on Yuuri's house and to manage her own meals. Makkachin has long been able to get into his ice boxes, so he does not doubt she will delight in the leftover lamb and salmon he had been planning on cooking tomorrow.

No matter. After she so politely left him and Yuuri to their own interests, Viktor believes she deserves the reward.

At last, Viktor gets into his car and drives off, missing the way one of Yuuri's curtains twitches aside, yet feeling his attention all the while.

He drives until his tank runs empty, then refills it and continues, until he can smell humans on the wind. This late at night, few will be outside of their homes, but this far from the city, even less will have protection from Viktor's thirst. He turns off the highway at the next exit, aiming for a nearby town.

He twitches when he smells humans again, stronger, fresh with life. He slows to a stop and listens above the purr of his engine, hearing laughter and low voices, slurred with alcohol. His lips curl, and he drives until he reaches a parking lot next to a camping site, empty but for a single car. Then he leaves his car behind, setting off into the woods to follow the scents of humanity.

He sees them long before they notice him. Two humans sitting close together on a log around a fire, passing a bottle back and forth between them. Young lovers sharing a moment of quiet intimacy. They never even realize that a predator is stalking them, heads leaning close together, their romance obvious to anyone who looks.

Viktor sneers, then walks up behind them. Their screams pierce the night, but no one comes to save them.

~*~

Yuuri wakes abruptly with the feeling that he is being watched.

His room is dark, dawn still far away. He stays frozen for a long, tense moment, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Something is staring at him; Yuuri can feel its attention on his back. 

He hears a soft whine -- Vicchan, trembling against his side. Yuuri swallows and wraps his arm slowly around Vicchan, breathing in deeply, then suddenly rolls off the bed and ducks behind it, clutching Vicchan to his chest. He yanks open the drawer beside his bed and pulls out the gun he took to Viktor's house, clicking off the safety. His heart pounds in his ears as he listens for any noises from whatever is hunting him -- yet he hears nothing.

Carefully, Yuuri peers over the edge of his bed. His curtains are drawn closed, but beyond them, Yuuri can see the outline of a person with red glowing eyes. A vampire.

Fear races down his spine at the sight, but Yuuri forces himself to stand up, leaving Vicchan on the floor to hide by his legs. He points the gun at the window, swallowing as he tries to calm his nerves. He has never been more afraid; yet all Yuuri can think about is how Vicchan needs to be protected.

Why, why, why did he leave his window open?

Yuuri grabs his cell phone and finds the contact he made for the number Viktor gave him. A cool voice answers blandly, "Crispino Services."

"There's a rogue at my house," Yuuri whispers, then rattles off the address. He drops the phone when an eerie sound fills the air, high-pitched like a whine. Yuuri's eyes widen when he realizes that the vampire is dragging a claw down his window, scratching deep into the glass. The wards are keeping it out -- good. A low snarl follows the noise.

Then, suddenly, the curtains flutter open, revealing the vampire standing on his window ledge, a tall man whom Yuuri has never seen before. Yuuri cries out in shock and stumbles back, firing his gun. The vampire screeches and strikes at the air, but the bright white glow of Yuuri's wards meets his hand, sending the vampire flying back. Yuuri hears a dull thud and another growl as the creature hits the ground outside.

"Vicchan, stay!" Yuuri shouts as he bolts from the room. He doesn't look behind him as he runs, but his heart sinks when he hears tiny nails clattering against the wooden floor. He trips as he runs down the stairs, freezing for a moment when he sees glowing red eyes in his living room window. The vampire presses against the glass, his long white teeth gleaming in the dim light.

Yuuri swallows and aims his gun again, his heart pounding in his ears.

Then something completely unexpected happens; the darkness on either side of Yuuri suddenly _changes_ , and a massive beast steps out, formed of shadow with glowing red eyes just like the vampire. Yet Yuuri can only stare, because the beast looks like _Makkachin._ Vicchan starts barking furiously, but the beast ignores both him and Yuuri, darting forward and throwing herself at -- no, _through_ the window, her massive paws landing on the vampire's chest and knocking it the ground.

In the darkness outside, a fierce battle erupts, full of snarling and growling. One of the creatures lets out a high-pitched scream, then runs into the woods. The other beast, the Makkachin-like dog, paces around for several minutes, before melting through the shadows in the window and stepping into the living room once more. She stalks the boundary of the room, then lets out a huff and pads over to Yuuri, leaning down to butt her head against Vicchan's fluff before looking up at Yuuri, her long tongue rolling out of her mouth.

Yuuri stares down at the beast, then swallows. Vicchan has stopped barking. "Makkachin?" he whispers. The shadowy curls, her figure, the way her tail wags -- it has to be Makkachin.

Makkachin brightens and nudges her head against his hand, and gingerly, Yuuri pets her, finding her shadowy fur strange in texture, like silk and yet not. He breathes in slowly, glancing at the window to make sure the rogue is gone, then clicks on the safety of his gun and tucks it into his waist, before leaning down to pick up Vicchan.

"Thank you, Makkachin," Yuuri whispers. Makkachin barks once, a familiar sound, then grabs Yuuri's pants with her teeth and pulls him forward. Yuuri gasps and stumbles through darkness, icy cold and _strange_ , stepping into another room.

When he looks up, he is no longer in his living room, but a nondescript room with several freezers and a couple of tables, lit only by a single sconce light. Vicchan whines, just as rattled by the shadow-walking -- something Yuuri has only read about -- but Makkachin seems unbothered, pacing the length of the room for one circle before sitting down in front of Yuuri. The shadows in her fur twist and change back to soft curls, the red in her eyes fading to warm brown. She barks at him, her tongue rolling out, before her ears perk up and she shifts back to her shadow form.

Yuuri sinks to his knees, suddenly weak. He must be somewhere safe, but... Yuuri has no idea where he is. He doesn't dare try to leave, though. If Makkachin thinks it is safe here, then Yuuri will wait until someone comes to get him.

He hopes Viktor comes back soon.


	3. tonight, i loved you

Long hours later, the sun chases Viktor down the highway while he drives home. His eyes glisten red as golden rays glance off his face, inhuman and eerie. He has not smiled since he left Detroit, and even the blood of the innocents he caught and consumed has done little to sate his lust. His body all but sings of blood, of life leeched from the pitiful humans he hunted, but the hunt itself did little for him.

All he wants is Yuuri -- who would be furious if he knew about what Viktor did.

Despite Viktor's desire to _hurt_ and _kill_ , he has better control of the basest of his urges. He left all of his victims alive, taking their memories of their trauma and leaving them sleeping in their beds. The two lovers in the woods were only appetizers; many of that small town will wake feeling sick today, blaming it on a virus circling around the population. Lethargy and pain will be the worst of their symptoms.

No one will realize that a vampire is the source of their discomfort. Viktor is kind enough to spare them the mutilation he would have preferred.

Drinking hot blood from a human's neck satisfied him; yet each time he sank his fangs into delicate flesh, Viktor would think of Yuuri with his head thrown back, stretched beneath him with tears in his eyes and a flush on his cheeks. He _aches_ so badly to have him; yet he knows he cannot take Yuuri for his own.

Not that way. Not yet.

With a heavy sigh, Viktor directs his car toward home. He has been sated for now; at least he no longer hungers. Whether that will be enough to control his bloodlust for his neighbor... Viktor does not know, but he will do his best not to harm Yuuri.

He wonders at his own desire to court a human. A hunter's child, no less. He has had few interactions with Japanese hunter families, but he did spend a substantial decade in southern Japan a few centuries ago. Only one hunter family would remember him enough to write about him; he wonders at the coincidence of Yuuri possibly being a child of that clan. Even if Yuuri is descended from the Fujiwara clan, he told Viktor that he renounced that side of his family.

No matter. Yuuri is not a hunter himself; Viktor would have to be a hypocrite if he could not forgive Yuuri for the sins of his forefathers.

When Viktor turns onto his and Yuuri's street, all thoughts of his lineage fly out of his mind, for several nondescript black cars are parked along the side of the road near Yuuri's house. Viktor drives a little faster than necessary to reach his house, parking in the driveway haphazardly, to find Sara Crispino-Babicheva waiting for him on the porch in the shadows, wearing thick sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, and a long-sleeved dress to cover her skin.

His attention snaps to the other side of the street. Yuuri's curtains are closed, but his door is wide open, and Yuuri's heartbeat is nowhere inside his house. A cluster of witches and two vampires, heavily covered, stand near the house, talking in low tones. Every time a neighbor wanders out of their house, one of the vampires breaks off to convince them to ignore everything with allure, so that no one pays attention to whatever is going on.

When Viktor steps out of his car, he catches the scent of a rogue on the wind. He freezes, then turns a scowl on Sara, his eyes flashing with fury. "What happened?"

"Your neighbor saw a rogue last night," Sara says shortly, not impressed with his anger but sane enough not to argue with him. "Your beast chased it off and took your neighbor away. We cannot get into your home to question him."

Viktor stills, then breathes out shortly, almost dizzy in relief and anger. He strains his hearing and finds Yuuri's heartbeat in his basement, surrounded by Makkachin's familiar shadows. Yuuri is alive -- Makkachin protected him. He opens his door for Sara, temporarily allowing entry into his wards.

"Into my house with all of you. I will speak with you shortly." Not waiting for Sara's response, Viktor turns away from her and steps into the nearest shadow, walking out on the other side into his basement, dark except for a single small light over one of the tables.

Yuuri is sitting on the floor with Vicchan in his lap, Makkachin standing guard over him. All three look up when Viktor appears, and Yuuri stands immediately, stumbling forward as Vicchan jumps down. Viktor crosses the room in three long strides, sweeping Yuuri into his arms and holding him tightly.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, then throws his arms around Viktor and hides his face in Viktor's shoulder. "It was here. It was outside my house. I don't --" He cuts himself off, choked up with fear, and Viktor runs his hand down Yuuri's back soothingly, letting out a low rumble from his throat. His allure will not work to calm Yuuri, but he hopes that his voice and touch will be enough.

"Everything is okay, my love, I am here," Viktor murmurs, kissing Yuuri's hair. He glances over Yuuri's shoulder to Makkachin, who has transformed into her other form, shadows curling protectively around Vicchan, who sticks close to her despite her obvious changes. When Yuuri has calmed enough that he no longer trembles in Viktor's arms, Viktor allows himself to focus on what happened. "Did Makkachin bring you here?"

Yuuri nods slightly, pulling back enough to look at Viktor. He does not let go, though. "I woke up when I heard growling outside. I saw it outside my window... it was watching me." His voice wavers briefly, and Viktor makes another low noise of encouragement. "It couldn't get past the wards. Then Makkachin... that's Makkachin, right? She appeared and fought it, and it ran away. Then she came into my house and herded me and Vicchan... into the shadows? Then we were here. Where... where are we?"

"My basement," Viktor says quietly, beyond grateful that Makkachin protected Yuuri. He had not ordered her to do so, but his beautiful dog often anticipates his desires before Viktor can even voice them. If that rogue had broken into Yuuri's home...

Viktor's eyes flash at the thought. He has not forced his other eye color to the forefront; his eyes have been glowing red the entire time. Yuuri jerks back as if just realizing how inhuman he looks, staring at him, and Viktor forces himself to calm down, suppressing his rage.

"Makkachin has a few interesting powers not unlike my own," Viktor says instead. "She is not a vampire, so she would not be caught by your wards. I am relieved that she was able to bring you to safety here."

He lets go of Yuuri and takes his hand, then walks over to the wall to flick on a switch, turning on the rest of the lights. Yuuri flinches at the light that floods the room, blinking several times as he looks around. Along the wall are two large freezers and a refrigerator, as well as two work tables and several empty shelves. Viktor leads him over to one of the freezers and lifts up the lid, revealing dozens of blood bags.

"My supply," Viktor says quietly, smiling when Yuuri goes stiff, then relaxes slowly. He catches Yuuri's suspicious glance to his eyes and chuckles. "When I am in the city, at least."

"You fed last night," Yuuri whispers. "That was your reason for leaving."

"Clever Yuuri. I left them alive," Viktor replies, reaching up to cup Yuuri's face. "They knew no fear, and they will remember nothing of it."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment. "Because you didn't feed from me." Viktor's heart nearly stops at the words.

"I will not hurt you," Viktor says, fierce for a moment, taking Yuuri aback. "A few moments of discomfort for humans who will never remember is more than acceptable as an alternative to possibly killing you. You know what I am. You cannot deny me the right to live as I have for a thousand years, Yuuri."

Yuuri purses his lips, then nods slowly. "Next time, you'll bite me," he tells Viktor firmly, then looks away from him and kneels down to gather up Vicchan. "The people I called said they would come. Are they here?"

Viktor stares at him, swallowing back the taste of blood as he imagines biting Yuuri. He cannot bear the thought, and yet he _wants it_ more than anything. More than any blood he has ever craved before. With a deep breath, Viktor puts away those thoughts and Yuuri's insistent words, choosing to focus on the current situation.

"Yes, they are here, and they wish to speak to you. Come, my dear," Viktor says quietly, touching his bare fingers to the small of Yuuri's back. He flicks off the light switch, then pushes Yuuri forward a step, walking out of the shadows a second later into his darkened kitchen. Yuuri gasps as his foot lands on the tile floor, whirling around and staring at the blank wall behind him, while Vicchan whimpers. Makkachin follows, hopping out of the shadows and shaking off her shadowy form, transforming into her normal poodle visage.

"I don't like that. It's too cold," Yuuri says after a moment, and Viktor laughs softly. He notices then that Yuuri is wearing only his pajamas -- shorts and a shirt -- and removes his coat, wrapping it around Yuuri's shoulders.

"Go on to the living room. Sara Crispino-Babicheva awaits you. No one will harm you while you are in my home, Yuuri. I will make refreshments. Makkachin, stay with Yuuri."

Yuuri looks at him hesitantly, then leans up to kiss him softly, lingering. Then Yuuri lets him go and leaves the kitchen, heading for the living room. Makkachin follows, ever-protective of her charge, even if their guests are currently allies. Viktor will have to reward her for taking such good care of Yuuri later.

As Yuuri greets the handful of vampires and witches, beginning to answer their questions in a low voice, Viktor listens closely while his hands go through the familiar rote of preparing tea and coffee. Yuuri is no longer so fearful, but Viktor absolutely _hates_ that another vampire approached him while Viktor was away. After less than a day, too -- and the fact that the rogue had stalked Yuuri during Viktor's absence is telling.

Someone is watching him and his house. Someone is watching _Yuuri_. Viktor will never forgive them.

He keeps his rage, ice cold and deadly, bottled up and hidden away. He will unleash his anger on the appropriate target when he finds them: the rogue who terrified Yuuri, and the witch who sent them.

~*~

Some time later, Viktor stares out his window, silent as he listens to the quiet noises of the neighborhood going about their day. His mind is on the scent of the rogue, stinking of old blood and the odd stench of magic. He still seethes at the fact that another vampire entered his territory, yet the anger has long burned down to a cold, distant broil. He never lets his fury show, not wanting to scare Yuuri.

"I should go to work," Yuuri says distantly, staring at the window. Sara and her cluster of witches and vampires, the few able to handle the sun, have long left. Now Yuuri sits with Vicchan and Makkachin on either side of him, a luxuriously soft blanket wrapped around him. He is still wearing his pajamas, yet he has made no move to leave Viktor's house, even though he should be getting to work soon.

Viktor hopes to convince him otherwise.

"You have a graduate assistant, correct?" Viktor asks smoothly, crossing the room to Yuuri, sitting at Makkachin's side. "You had an ordeal this morning. That rogue could come back and follow you again if you leave. Cancel your classes for the day, or contact your assistant to take over for you, and I will handle the rest. Stay with me until I sort this out. Alright, Yuuri?"

Yuuri's gazes flicks up from his hands to rest on Viktor's face. He purses his lips briefly, looking ready to argue, then shudders a little and curls into himself. "My phone is in my house..."

"Just a minute, love." Viktor stands and leaves the room, disappearing into shadow and appearing in the middle of Yuuri's hallway. He takes a few minutes to gather Yuuri's phone, glasses, and a change of clothes, as well as some of Yuuri's toiletries, packing everything into Yuuri's class bag before returning to his house. He sets the bag beside the couch and kneels down again, offering the phone to Yuuri.

Yuuri stares at the bag, then shakes himself a little and takes the phone. While he makes the calls, his voice trembling slightly as he speak to the staff at the university, Viktor sets about securing his home. Vampire wards are rather different from the witch-made ones that Yuuri uses; for one, they are blood-activated, which is rarely used by magic users. 

Viktor need only leave a few drops of blood for the wards to activate fully. He slices open his palm, then squeezes four drops onto the floor in front of the couch, watching impassively as an ancient sigil appears in the wood. The blood melts into the sigil, causing it to glow brightly for a moment. Then the sigil disappears again, absorbing the power of Viktor's lifeforce and sending it echoing through the rest of the house, bringing the wards to full power. Viktor smiles a little at the resulting hum, lasting only a moment before the house goes silent again.

If another vampire comes near his house, they are in for a terrible surprise.

He shifts his attention back to the couch, to find three pairs of eyes staring at him. Yuuri's gaze darts between his hand and the floor a few times, before settling on Viktor's face.

"What was that?"

"Wards to protect you," Viktor explains, smiling softly. He licks the blood off his palm, which has already healed itself, ignoring the way Yuuri's gaze follows his mouth. "Did you get your classes taken care of?"

"Yeah, the admin assistant handled it," Yuuri says vaguely, then seems to shake himself, slumping forward. "It should be ridiculous to feel as safe as I do... here in a vampire's house. I don't want to go home, though."

Viktor tries not to feel pleased about that. "You are always welcome here, Yuuri. Would you like to rest now? I have a guest bedroom that is very comfortable."

Yuuri nods slowly, then frowns, his attention fixating on Viktor once more. "What about you?"

Viktor hesitates only a moment. "I will be dealing with the miscreant that threatened you."

"No."

Viktor blinks a few times, then raises an eyebrow at Yuuri, who looks surprised by his own emphatic tone. Immediately a tiny flush rises to his cheeks, but Yuuri doesn't apologize or excuse himself, instead meeting Viktor's crimson gaze evenly.

"No," Yuuri says, a little more quiet, but no less firm. "The rogue has been gone for hours, and it's daylight now. There's no telling where it's gone. You should stay here."

Viktor purses his lips slightly. "Makkachin and Vicchan will stay with you. You will be safe here, Yuuri. This is the perfect time to strike at the creature that scared you. It will be hiding now, an easy target."

"If you attack it in broad daylight, you'll get in trouble," Yuuri argues, sitting up. The blanket falls off his shoulder.

"I cannot step aside while that trash roams free --"

"I don't want you to go!"

Viktor shuts his mouth at the exclamation, staring. Yuuri has turned red again, embarrassment flooding his expression. Viktor can barely believe his ears; here is a hunter's child, a man who should by all rights be afraid of him after being terrorized by another vampire... yet Yuuri _trusts_ him. Even though Viktor lusts for his blood, even though he is the deadliest predator in the city... Yuuri trusts him, and _wants_ him.

"Please," Yuuri whispers, and Viktor cannot deny him again. He reaches up to cup Yuuri's cheek, sliding cold fingers over that delicate flush of blood beneath soft skin, smiling gently.

"As you wish, Yuuri."

"Viktor..." Yuuri leans in suddenly and catches Viktor with a kiss, surprising him yet again. Viktor does not hesitate to respond though, pressing Yuuri back against the couch, not minding as Makkachin and Vicchan both hop down to the floor and go to curl up on the rug in front of the fireplace. He is too focused on the way Yuuri trembles, his body shifting to welcome Viktor, how warm he feels even with the fresh blood filling Viktor after his hunt.

"You must have been frightened," Viktor murmurs against Yuuri's lips, dragging his thumb across the corner of Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri's eyelashes flutter briefly, then open to meet his crimson gaze, boldly flicking his tongue against Viktor's thumb.

"I was, but then you came back. Take me to bed?"

"If that is what you wish... then yes." Viktor stands and easily lifts Yuuri into his arms, causing him to yelp in surprise and grab onto Viktor's shoulders.

"This isn't what I meant!" Yuuri protests, and Viktor laughs, smiling at him fondly as he walks up the stairs.

"You mean you did not wish for me to sweep you off your feet, my dear?" Viktor says teasingly, enjoying the way Yuuri frowns at him. "How could I resist? You are utterly charming, and you weigh as light as a feather."

"I definitely don't," Yuuri mutters.

Viktor laughs again as he steps into his bedroom, grand and opulent as it is, with shining lamps and Russian paintings as the most prominent decorations. He has thick curtains over the windows to save him some discomfort, keeping the room pleasantly dark. Viktor carries Yuuri over to the bed and lays him down, sitting down at his side and drawing a cold finger along Yuuri's jaw.

"You are a lovely thing, aren't you?" Viktor murmurs. Yuuri leans up to catch Viktor's lips in an ardent kiss, dragging him down to the bed.

Viktor pours himself into the kiss, letting Yuuri's soft warmth and low sighs soothe his anger for now. He will find the rogue -- it cannot run far from him, between his own hunting abilities and the light that burns it -- but for now, he wishes to focus on Yuuri, who needs him so.

"I shouldn't want you," Yuuri whispers against his lips. "Vampires don't take human lovers..."

"Oh? Yet here I am, taking you as my lover." Viktor chuckles and sits up, admiring him for a moment. "Though it is true that we prefer fellow vampires... for the longevity, you see. Your human life can be extinguished so easily..."

Yuuri's eyes almost seem to glow in the dim light. "Are you asking me to become a vampire?"

Viktor blinks and considers it. He has not created his own childe in quite a long time. His fangs ache deeply for a moment at the thought of biting Yuuri and _turning_ him. To have Yuuri at his side forever... powerful, beautiful, a mate in every sense of the word...

"My childe..."

Something knocks against his chest, and Viktor snaps out of his fantasy, staring blankly down at Yuuri for striking him. Yuuri frowns up at him in consternation.

"Viktor, I _barely know you._ I'm so overwhelmed, I can't even think about something like that right now. I just... right now, I just know that I want you. What happens after that, we can figure out as it goes... okay? I'm still not sure if we even like each other."

"Oh, I like you very much, Yuuri," Viktor breathes. He struggles to regain control of his expression, which must show thoughts he would prefer to keep private. Yuuri gives him a knowing look, and Viktor puts on a charming smile. "I like you in my arms, I like you in my bed..."

"Be serious." Yuuri's eyes are all but glowing in the dark, blazing right through Viktor's defenses. "We're both taking huge risks by being with each other. My family would kill you. I'm in danger just by living near you, and it frightens me. But for some reason... I really want to try this. Being with you."

Viktor stays silent for a long moment, all but a shadow, turning over Yuuri's honesty. Yuuri keeps reaching for him, trying to meet him, and Viktor has been dancing around that forthright determination, afraid of his own desire, of his own feelings. Centuries alone, and one human threatens to undo all that he has labored to contain, all of his pretense of having no emotion. Finally he lets out a small sigh and pushes his hair out of his face, his charming mask melting away, which leaves him feeling exposed.

Yuuri's look of wonder is worth the danger, though.

"A vampire such as me, choosing a human such as you... perhaps this will end in disaster. Perhaps not. If you truly wish for this... for _me_ , then how can I resist you, Yuuri? You are wondrous." Viktor takes Yuuri's hand and brings to his lips, kissing his fingers just above his palm, his eyes falling closed. "I want you, too. It scares me how much I want you. If only you would let me turn you..."

"We can talk about that another day," Yuuri whispers, his whole face flushing as Viktor kisses his hand again, lips brushing over his sensitive palm. "Yes. Please, Viktor, just... be with me. Can we try?"

Viktor smiles slowly, opening his eyes to gaze down at Yuuri. "We shall try... but we will also be careful, my dear. You were just attacked, and your... _our_ emotions are heightened by that fear. Are you not simply turning to me because I can protect you?"

Yuuri shakes his head once, pulling his hand down from Viktor's face. He keeps a hold on Viktor's hand and turns his head to press against his cool fingers, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment and arousal. "No, that's not it. It's more than that. You're the first person I've wanted to hold onto."

Viktor falls silent for a moment, shocked. No one -- human, vampire, or otherwise -- has ever said anything like that to him. He almost plays off his surprise as more flirtation, but the intensity of Yuuri's expression gives him pause. He draws his thumb across Yuuri's soft cheek, listening to the quick beat of his heart with fondness.

Viktor Nikiforov, becoming fond of a human.

"Are you still frightened?" Viktor asks softly. "That rogue got too close to you."

Yuuri bites on his lip for a moment. "I'm afraid of what it means. But... having you here, it makes me feel better. Is that weird? I should be scared of _you._ "

"Yes... you should, my dear. Yet I will not let anything happen to you. Put that creature out of your mind and focus on me, only me. I will protect you." Viktor smiles softly, his heart all but demanding he take care of Yuuri. He can pretend no longer. "And yet... in trying to protect you, I may corrupt you, after all. Shall I try to seduce you to the dark side? I am rather talented at it."

Yuuri scoffs, his heart beating a bit faster. "I'd like to see you try. None of the other vampires I've met have ever tempted me."

Viktor suppresses the burn of jealousy at the thought of other vampires courting Yuuri. "Then let us begin," he murmurs, smiling thoughtlessly at the way Yuuri's eyes fasten on him. "Now... stay there, my dear."

Viktor stands and turns on a little lamp so that Yuuri can see in the dark, then reaches up to unbutton his shirt. The clothing has blood from his hunt earlier in the night, stains that Viktor's laundry service will remove admirably. The only bit of cloth in Viktor's home that has not been sent to be cleaned is the glove with Yuuri's blood on it.

When Viktor pushes the shirt off his shoulders, Yuuri lets out a small groan, shifting on the bed. He stays obedient, though, not moving from where Viktor left him, and Viktor rewards him with a small smile. Yuuri watches closely as Viktor reaches for his belt, deftly undoing the buckle and sliding it out of its loops, before unbuttoning his trousers. Then he pauses at the zipper, long enough to make Yuuri frown.

"Viktor," Yuuri says, pushing himself up on his elbows. Viktor chuckles, enjoying the way Yuuri looks sprawled out on his bed. Just as beautiful as he imagined, if not more so.

"Be patient, my dear. If you can be a good boy, I will reward you." He glances up to see Yuuri's entire face go pink, his body arching in response to the dare. Pleased, Viktor unzips his trousers, sliding his fingers down his thickening cock, trapped in a sleek black thong. The trousers slip down his legs to the floor.

"You wear a thong," Yuuri says weakly. Viktor flashes a smile.

"They feel lovely. Shall I buy you some, my dear?" he croons, approaching the bed and standing at the edge, slipping his fingers under the waist of his underwear. "I'd love to see that pert little bottom of yours on display..."

"Flirt. You are a terrible flirt, Viktor Nikiforov," Yuuri breathes, his eyes never moving away from Viktor's cock. "Come here."

Viktor takes a moment to gather supplies from one of his drawers, then slides onto the bed on his knees and immediately focuses his attention on stripping every bit of cloth from Yuuri's body. Yuuri protests, but his complaint is muffled by his shirt being pulled over his head. Viktor tosses the clothes aside with nary a care, his gaze settling heavily on Yuuri's beautiful nude form.

"Viktor!"

"Exquisite," Viktor murmurs, dipping his head to draw his lips down Yuuri's chest. "Beauty unlike any I have ever seen. All the paintings in the world could not compare."

"Flirt," Yuuri gasps, arching into Viktor's touches. "I'm not that..."

"You are, my love. Every inch of you is perfect. This, and this," Viktor says, smiling as he kisses Yuuri's hip, then lowering his head to breathe across Yuuri's leaking cock. "Sublime... I could spend the rest of my eternal life just looking at you."

Yuuri swallows, staring at him. Something in his eyes flares with a dark sort of possessiveness, that Viktor would have expected from himself. "I want you to look only at me," Yuuri whispers, pulling off his glasses and tossing them onto the pillow, then pushing his hair back from his eyes.

How interesting -- his Yuuri is a possessive little creature, rather like a vampire. Viktor likes him even more for it. "Only you, my dear. How can I look away? I am infatuated with you."

"Good. Now hurry up and fuck me," Yuuri orders. The expletive takes Viktor by surprise, sending a small thrill through him. He smiles slowly, then sits up between Yuuri's legs and slides off his remaining article of clothing, tossing it to the floor with the rest of their clothes, then slowly fisting his cock.

"Demanding, and in such a crude manner," Viktor chides softly, rewarded with a pretty blush. "I will not be easy on you, my dear. I will wring every drop of pleasure from you that I can... whether you wish it or not. This is your last chance to escape. I will not let you go after this."

Yuuri looks even more enthralled than before. "I'm not backing down," he says, licking his lips. "But... you'll stop if I ask you to, right?"

Viktor smiles slowly. "Of course, Yuuri. Now..." He looks over Yuuri's delectable body, ignoring the pale stretch of his neck and considering what he wants and what Yuuri wants.

"Where shall I start with you?"

"Here," Yuuri whispers, touching his lips. Viktor leans down to indulge him.

The morning passes slowly in heat and lovemaking, as Viktor chases the ghosts haunting Yuuri's mind far from his bed, where he wishes Yuuri to feel safe. By the time Viktor is done, Yuuri has all but forgotten his trauma -- as Viktor intended.

All the while, he wonders at how an innocent human has captivated him so. Yuuri keeps showing him new sides to his humanity, which are less human than Yuuri would probably like to admit. Sometimes, Yuuri seems to think more like a vampire, in how ruthless he can be, but he acts so human, too. Viktor should be running away, as he has always done when faced with humans, and yet he does not wish to go anywhere. He wants to be with Yuuri.

Trying this romance with a human... perhaps they truly will end in disaster -- or, possibly, they could become something amazing together. Viktor cannot help but fear the future a little, enough that this chance for love makes him wary, and yet...

With Yuuri wrapped in his arms, looking at him with those clear, beautiful eyes and _seeing him_ , Viktor cannot help but be excited, too.

~*~

When Yuuri is asleep at last, Viktor slips out of the house, leaving Makkachin to protect him. Standing on his front step fills him with grim determination.

He hadn't cared much about the rogue problem before. Now, the matter is personal. They have encroached upon his territory -- _Yuuri_ \-- and Viktor is not pleased.

He crosses the street to Yuuri's house first, avoiding the front door and stepping around to the back of the house. His expression turns hard when he catches the scent of the miscreant outside the back window, politely closed by one of Sara's associates, who had also taken care to lock up Yuuri's house at Viktor's direction. He doesn't test the wards, but he can feel them humming, charged up after an encounter with an enemy.

His head turns unerringly toward the woods where the rogue escaped. The small forest behind their little neighborhood is limited in its reach, with another subdivision on the other side of it a few miles away. Enough space for a rogue to hide, but not enough to get away. With the sun nearing its pinnacle, Viktor doubts the rogue has traveled too far.

He sets off into the woods without looking back, following the scent of the being who scared Yuuri.

The animals of the forest sense his hunt and avoid him, and no humans cross his path. Viktor follows the trail easily, his expression set into blankness as he thinks of all he wishes to do to this creature that invaded his territory. If the rogue leads him to the witch behind all this nonsense, Viktor will be even more pleased.

In too short a time, the trail leads him to a small clearing in the woods, hidden by thick trees and heavy vines. The world appears darker here, the forest thick enough around the clearing that little light reaches the ground. Even the trees look darker, as if tainted with something terrible.

In the center of the clearing, the rogue lies still with a silver stake in its heart, the creature's skin already turning gray in true death. Beneath the rogue is a white spell circle on the ground, purple candles melted to nearly nothing with the wicks extinguished. A small fire pit nearby has been recently doused, still smoking slightly, while a ragged tent stretches hitched between two trees.

The area has been wiped clean of any scent but the vampire's corpse. The witch must have used a scent-nullifying spell to erase their presence. 

Viktor breathes in slowly. Then he pulls out his cellular phone -- a distasteful part of the modern world, but one Viktor finds useful -- and makes a call to Minami Chikako.

"I found a witch's lair near my home," Viktor tells her, his voice flat. He gives her directions and hangs up, staring blankly at the spell circle for some time, before shaking himself of his disturbance and beginning to take pictures in case a spell goes off while his attention is compromised.

He makes another call to Crispino Services to inform them of the dead rogue, then settles in to wait.

All the while, he seethes. The witch got away -- and _they have been living near Viktor._ He is certain that the witch is targeting either him or Yuuri. While Yuuri would make sense, given the attacks began long before Viktor approached Detroit, and the rogue actually went near Yuuri's home despite Viktor's obvious presence across the street, Viktor cannot rule out being targeted as well. His enemies number far more than Viktor prefers to admit.

Viktor can protect himself. On the other hand, if Yuuri is the target...

Viktor takes a deep breath to center himself. The clearing is silent, though in the distance, Viktor can hear car doors slamming and people rustling in the woods. The witches will be here soon, and they can handle the remainder of the investigation.

He senses that he is not alone.

Viktor narrows his eyes. Somebody is watching him, yet Viktor cannot smell the witch that escaped. They may be using a spell to observe him, but they may also still be nearby. If they are hiding in the vicinity, then perhaps he can surprise them. He closes his eyes and listens to the shadows.

Somebody is breathing nearby, though Viktor cannot hear their lungs or heart. The shadows can feel the disturbance in the air, though -- and that is what Viktor fixates on.

Viktor waits a beat, then turns on his heel and walks away from the clearing, stepping into a shadowy cluster of trees. The next moment, he steps between two trees and grabs for the person standing there. The second Viktor's hand touches the back of the person's neck, the trees around him explode, ripping apart his senses and sending him flying.

Viktor gasps as magical fire burns into his skin, his ears ringing as he struggles to make sense of what happened. His clothes are on fire; his body is in great pain, and Viktor can barely breathe through the smoke and ash in the air. After a few moments, he drags himself up, only to find that he is alone in the epicenter of a massive explosion, white-purple fire still burning the ground and trees, everything around him completely destroyed, including part of the witch's clearing several yards away. Viktor gapes, stunned at the power behind the witch's defensive spell, then snarls and forces himself to his feet.

"Mr. Nikiforov!" someone shouts, before a burst of water hits him and dampens the magical fire. Viktor breathes out, his expression going cold as his body begins to ache fiercely from the wounds, glaring into the woods.

The witch is gone.

"Are you alright?" asks the young voice worriedly, and Viktor turns to find Minami Kenjirou hovering beside him, while other witches stand at the edge of the debris, staring in shock.

Viktor brushes off Kenjirou's concern. "I am well. The witch attacked me and escaped. I cannot trace their magic, but this is their work, and that is their lair." He points at the clearing, where the rogue's corpse and the spell circle remain intact, then begins to wring out his clothes, his movements stiff with pain. He keeps his fury and pain well hidden, not wanting to shock any of the Minami witches with his volatile emotions.

"Kenjirou, come help," calls one of the witches, and Kenjirou returns to his coven reluctantly, throwing anxious looks over his shoulder. Viktor carefully makes his way out of the wreckage into untouched woods, where the witches are putting out fires, and pauses beside Minami Chikako.

"I will leave the rest to you," he says quietly. Chikako gives him an odd look but nods, her attention immediately returning to the chaos around them.

"Thank you for calling us, Mr. Nikiforov. Please have a safe trip back."

Viktor finally leaves, stepping into the nearest shadow and appearing on the other side in his basement. He falls to his knees with a pained gasp. With shaking hands, he tears his ruined clothes off his body, leaving them in a wet pile on the floor and stumbling to one of his coolers to find some blood. His fullness from his hunt will help, but he needs fresh blood. As soon as he begins to drink, the pain begins to recede, but slowly. Spell damage will never heal as fast as normal damage to his body. 

He really, really hates witches.

After he finishes the bag of blood, Viktor grimaces and steps into the shadows once more, appearing on the other side in his bedroom. He pauses when he sees Yuuri curled up in his expansive bed, aching a little at the sight of him, soft and warm and human. He would love nothing more than to rest with Yuuri for the rest of the day.

He forces himself to step into the bathroom instead, turning on the shower.

As the water beats down on his head and washes away blood and burnt skin, Viktor loses himself for a few moments, staring down at the drain. His entire body hurts, burned all over from the witch's fire. He will have to thank Kenjirou for his quick thinking later; the boy deserves a raise in pay as well as a reward, because if he had not put out the fire, Viktor would be in even worse shape. As it is, the wounds will take a few days to close and heal over completely.

He let a witch get the best of him.

"Damn it. Damn!" Viktor slams his hand against the wall, baring his teeth as pain races through his arm. He has not felt this defeated in years. He does not know his enemy. They have the upper hand against him, and he has no idea what will happen next. How can he stop the witch? How can he complete this job?

How can he protect Yuuri?

"Viktor?" calls a soft voice, startling Viktor out of his anger. He stares down at his hand, then flexes it out, grimacing as the knuckles crack. He may have shattered a few bones, but they will knit back together soon.

"Yuuri..." Viktor covers his mouth for a moment, pressing against his aching fangs at the sweet scent that floods the room, relieved that he ate before he came upstairs. He struggles to keep his voice level. "I will just be a minute."

"Why don't I join you?" Yuuri says coyly, and before Viktor can protest, he pulls open the glass door to the shower. Yuuri stands there wearing nothing but Viktor's shirt, already sliding it off one shoulder, when he freezes. The flirtatious blush on his face fades abruptly as he blanches, taking in Viktor's injured state and furious expression. Instead of showing any fear, though, he only shows concern.

"Viktor! What happened to you? You're hurt," Yuuri frets, ignoring the spray of the water and stepping closer, reaching up to hover over a burn on Viktor's arm. Viktor stares at him, stunned. A hunter's child should not be so worried about him, let alone unafraid.

"A witch caught me by surprise," Viktor says without thinking, then grimaces.

Yuuri slowly narrows his eyes. "You went after the rogue, didn't you?"

"Ah..." Viktor glances away from Yuuri, then sighs deeply and reaches for the faucet to turn the water off as some of his anger drains away. "Hand me a towel, love." After a brief moment, Yuuri steps away and pulls a large, fluffy towel from a stack on a nearby shelf, thrusting it at Viktor before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tell me what happened, Viktor."

Viktor stays silent for the moment, stepping out of the shower and slowly drying his body off, taking care not to stress his wounds any further. Yuuri watches worriedly, his fingers twitching several times on his arms as if he wants to help, but Viktor would rather do this alone, not wanting to bring Yuuri into the darker side of his world.

He is surprised when, a few moments later, Yuuri nudges his arm. "Sit down," Yuuri mumbles, nodding to the stool Viktor keeps in the bathroom. Bemused, Viktor obeys.

Yuuri searches through the cabinets for a moment, opening different containers and smelling them, before he pulls out a small jar of ointment. Viktor gives him a long look for recognizing medicine specifically mixed for vampires, which makes Yuuri shrug sheepishly. 

"I read about it in a book," he mutters, then frowns at Viktor. "Please hold still, Viktor."

"As you wish," Viktor murmurs. He gazes down at his hands as Yuuri begins to coat his wounds with the balm, not bothering to flinch at the gentle touches, even as his skin stings. After a few minutes, the pain begins to recede as the ointment works, and Viktor groans.

"You have a deft hand at healing."

"I picked it up here and there," Yuuri says, stepping around Viktor and kneeling in front of him. Viktor affords a small smirk at the position, which makes Yuuri turn a little pink before he focuses on Viktor's wounds.

"This is not how I wished to spend today," Viktor says, scowling down at his hands, then dragging a hand down his face. Yuuri glances up at him briefly, eyes widening, but he does not flinch away to see Viktor's remaining fury. "I intended to capture the miscreant who assaulted you and return before you woke. I did not expect to run into the witch instead."

"What about the rogue?" Yuuri asks hesitantly.

"Dead. The witch killed it for its failure. I found their lair, but they had hidden themselves nearby to watch. I ambushed them, which was a mistake, as you can see. They escaped. The Minami coven will deal with tracking them if it is possible."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment. "So their lair was in the woods behind my house."

"Yes," Viktor affirms with a faint grimace. "I am sorry, my dear. I did not notice, thus endangering you. The witch will not return to that place, at least."

"They were so close," Yuuri whispers, staring down at his hands, which have stilled. "Have they been watching me? Is this why the attacks were near the school? Am... I a target?"

Viktor finds he does not like the expression on Yuuri's face. He reaches down and takes the ointment from Yuuri's hands, setting it aside, then lifts Yuuri up by his waist easily and settles him on his lap. Yuuri inhales softly and looks at him, dark eyes wide. Viktor cups Yuuri's head in his hands and tilts his face up gently. 

"I will not allow you to be harmed. I will find this witch and stop them, and I will protect you. This I promise you, Yuuri."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment. "We barely know each other, so why..."

"Because you see all of me, and you are not afraid," Viktor whispers. "Here I am, a monster, and instead of fleeing, you have chosen to take care of me."

"I know you won't hurt me," Yuuri says simply, leaning in to rest his forehead against Viktor's. His hands come up to twist Viktor's damp hair behind his neck, sliding through the silken strands worshipfully. Viktor has never had someone treat him so gently. "You could have killed me the night of the gala, and you didn't. I remember a little of that night... you could have done anything to me, or to my dog... Even my students are safe with you. I trust you, Viktor."

Viktor closes his eyes beneath Yuuri's gentle ministrations. "You should not. As you said, you hardly know me."

"I'd like to know you better."

Viktor's eyes fly open, his gaze connecting with Yuuri's dark, intent stare. He swallows against the lingering taste of blood in his throat, then lifts his head to kiss Yuuri softly.

Part of Viktor wishes to respond to that open, emotional plea, but another part of him is overwhelmed by the human in front of him, so alien after years of simply manipulating humans to do his bidding. Between the attack and his own protective feelings, he feels rattled, unsure. He pulls back after a long moment and rests his forehead against Yuuri's shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent.

"You honor me," Viktor whispers.

Yuuri's arms tighten around him. "So... can we try? I'm not saying it's going to be perfect, but..."

"You are already perfect. Yes... let us try, this unknown romance. If you can handle it, my dear," Viktor says, his lips twitching with a smile.

"I can, if you can," Yuuri says, his eyes flashing at the challenge. Viktor's smile widens to something more cunning, before he leans in to kiss Yuuri again, deeply this time, his hands sliding down to Yuuri's hips so that he can dig his claws into supple flesh. 

Yuuri groans, which ignites the kiss with passion erupting between them. Viktor can feel that Yuuri is wearing no underwear, and he slips his fingers between Yuuri's legs to stroke his sensitive entrance, enjoying the way Yuuri twitches for him, still slick from their activities earlier.

"Viktor, wait, you're hurt," Yuuri protests, gasping as Viktor slips a finger into him and stretches him slowly.

"Making love to you will make me forget my pain." He deepens the kiss to distract Yuuri, sliding his tongue against Yuuri's and enjoying his taste. Yuuri lets out a low groan, then breaks the kiss, opening his eyes to frown at Viktor.

"You taste like blood."

Viktor meets his eyes briefly, then dips his head to drag his tongue over Yuuri's pectoral. In response, Yuuri digs his fingers into Viktor's hair and yanks his head back, glaring at him.

"Viktor, did you drink? I thought we agreed you would drink from me next time!"

"You mentioned that, but I did not agree," Viktor murmurs, the glow in his eyes flaring threateningly. Yuuri does not let go, his glare intensifying, and Viktor sighs. "Yuuri, my dear, did you not just tell me that we barely know each other? Trusting me not to hurt you is foolish. I could drain every drop of your lifeforce if you allowed me."

"But would you?" Yuuri challenges, tilting Viktor's head back by pulling his hair, then leaning in to kiss his neck. When his blunt teeth scrape against the sensitive skin over Viktor's slow pulse, Viktor cannot hold back his growl. In revenge, he pushes a second finger into Yuuri and begins to stretch him, making Yuuri writhe on his lap.

"You are testing me," Viktor mutters.

"I know what I want. I want you to bite me." Yuuri lifts his head, his dark eyes glittering, their color almost red in the light. Viktor wonders again if Yuuri has any vampire ancestors, his lips twitching in amusement, despite his irritation. Yuuri continues to surprise him, and Viktor finds that he loves it.

"I will consider it. That is all I can promise, Yuuri," Viktor says when Yuuri opens his mouth to protest again. "My bloodlust for you is... considerable. Let me meditate on it. For now..."

Viktor spreads his fingers within Yuuri, thinking of how he made Yuuri tremble and cry earlier by taking his time preparing him. Not this time -- he wants Yuuri, now. He slides his fingers out and cups his hands beneath Yuuri's backside. "Your legs around me, dear."

"Fine, but we're not done talking about this," Yuuri says, wrapping his legs around Viktor's waist, then gasps when Viktor stands abruptly and leaves the bathroom. He drops Yuuri on the bed and kneels between his spread legs, gazing down at Yuuri's twitching hole. He presses his fingers deep into Yuuri again, this time with accompanying slick, enjoying the way Yuuri throws his head back. At last Viktor lines himself up, then pushes in, Yuuri's warmth enveloping him.

Yuuri keens, arching off the white sheets, but Viktor does not hesitate, setting up a steady pace of thrusting into Yuuri. He sighs as Yuuri squeezes him, sliding his hands up Yuuri's legs and pulling them up, resting Yuuri's ankles against his shoulders.

"Shit -- Viktor! Don't do that, that's too deep," Yuuri pants, his hands scrambling to grip the sheets. "It feels -- ah!"

"Oh? By your expression, you seem to enjoy it very much," Viktor purrs, as he grinds deeper into Yuuri, enjoying the way Yuuri chokes out his name. The sight of Yuuri's flushed body taking every inch of his thick cock makes Viktor shudder. He might never grow tired of this passion between them, this strange connection between a vampire and a hunter's child -- but Yuuri is more than that.

Yuuri is so much more than that, and Viktor is excited to know him. Yuuri has continued to surprise him, and Viktor wants _more_ of him. His body aches in too many places, and Viktor wants to lose himself in Yuuri, to forget his pain for a little while.

"Look at you, so desperate for me, so eager," Viktor croons, turning his head to kiss Yuuri's bare leg, watching his toes curl. He cannot resist parting his lips and dragging his fangs lightly against soft skin, and to his surprise, Yuuri moans, his dripping sex twitching as it leaks against Yuuri's stomach. "Oh... Yuuri, what a sight you are..."

"Stop talking like that," Yuuri whines, staring up at him with hazy eyes. "Please, it's making me come..."

" _Good._ I want you to feel every inch of me, Yuuri. I want you to reach your orgasm without a single touch to that pretty cock of yours." The crude word makes Yuuri gasp, and he tries to spread his legs to draw Viktor deeper into him, but Viktor holds onto his ankles firmly, not letting up on his pace nor their position.

"Viktor, please --"

"It pleases me that my voice can bring you to such heights," Viktor sighs. "Ah, you feel so hot inside, Yuuri... For a creature such as me, who so rarely finds warmth, I could stay inside you all day and be perfectly content." He groans when Yuuri tightens around him, smirking slightly as he leans down a little, working his hips a little slower, yet pressing firmly into Yuuri and giving him what he wants.

"Does that excite you? Keeping my cock sheathed in your needy body all day? Perhaps at my office, while your students walk outside my building, and all the while, you sit on my lap, at my leisure..."

"F-fuck," Yuuri gasps, turning his head away from Viktor, his face flushing deeply. He arches and goes stiff, his hips trembling as his climax pulses through his body, clenching Viktor tightly. He spills across his stomach without ever touching himself, driven to his orgasm by Viktor alone. Slowly he sags against the bed, his knees spreading a little as he stares helplessly up at Viktor, who smiles at him.

"Very good, Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, pressing another kiss to Yuuri's leg, before lowering them to hook around his waist. He leans down to settle his hands on either side of Yuuri, giving him more leverage to move faster, harder. He wastes little time in strengthening his thrusts, enjoying the way Yuuri quivers beneath him. "Such a good boy."

"Don't _say_ things like that," Yuuri whimpers, throwing his head back as Viktor moves deeper. "Oh, god... Viktor, I can't, it's too much -- ah!" Too quickly, Yuuri loses sense of his vocabulary, reduced to moaning as Viktor slides into him, taking every inch of him beautifully.

"Hm... could I make you come again?" Viktor wonders, sighing as Yuuri clenches him again with slick heat, threatening to suck Viktor in and swallow him whole, demanding that he give Yuuri everything. Yuuri's hands move to grip his wrists, holding on for dear life as Viktor makes love to him at a relentless pace.

"Vik _torrrr_..."

"Another time, then." He bows his head to kiss Yuuri, drinking in his taste shallowly as Yuuri whimpers. Heat grows inside him, and he pours himself into fucking Yuuri senseless, his frustration from the day and the lingering pain in his body powering every thrust of his hips, shuddering every time his cock sinks into Yuuri's welcoming warmth.

Yuuri's fingernails dig into his wrists, and that tiny point of pain pulls Viktor down to kiss Yuuri's neck, sucking hard on the spot he would most like to bite. When his fang scrapes the delicate skin there, Yuuri screams, and Viktor loses himself to his climax, riding Yuuri hard and feeling Yuuri trembling in a second, less powerful orgasm, more an aftershock than anything.

For a long time afterward, they lie together, as Yuuri returns to sanity and Viktor stays hidden in Yuuri's arms, his hair spilling over them both in a blanket of silk. Despite teasing Yuuri earlier, Viktor finds he does not want to pull out just yet, loving the tight warmth of Yuuri's body. 

After a little while, Yuuri shifts beneath him. "Now I really need a shower," Yuuri mumbles.

Viktor laughs into his neck, joy lighting up his heart. What a strange human he has found -- yet he does not want to let Yuuri go again.

~*~

Life changes after the witch's attack. Summer fades completely, replaced by the vibrant leaves of autumn and weather that cannot decide between summer's warmth and winter's dreariness. The witch disappears, the rogues stop for a time, and Viktor grows ever more concerned that somebody is stalking Yuuri.

The Minami coven reports that they were unable to track the witch, but that they now have the witch's magical signature in their records. They promise to keep an eye out for any flares of that particular magic, but Viktor has his doubts as to the efficacy of their work. Still, he thanks Minami Chikako and Kenjirou for their efforts, taking care to reward Kenjirou with tickets to a concert the boy desired, in gratitude for his spell.

For Yuuri, Viktor is more careful.

He directs Makkachin to stay at Yuuri's side, knowing that Makkachin will easily be capable of protecting Yuuri, as well as taking him out of any danger in an instant. To this end, Viktor bribes the university into looking the other way while Makkachin attends Yuuri's classes and stays in his office, usually napping the afternoons away on Yuuri's couch and entertaining his fellow professors.

Yuuri is not pleased that Viktor does this without asking, but he likes Makkachin, so he accepts the protection. He even takes advantage of the situation by bringing Vicchan as well, both dogs accompanying him to the university every day.

Now that Viktor is free to court Yuuri and embrace their intimacy, he wastes no time. He sends flowers to Yuuri's office every week. He ambushes Yuuri after class, to the tittering interest of his students, and sweeps him off for dates. He buys Yuuri many gifts, ranging from a new necktie to a protective ward package courtesy of the Minami coven.

Yuuri isn't exactly pleased by Viktor's gifts, but he still accepts them, perhaps out of a sense of politeness. Either way, Yuuri's manners allow Viktor to shower him with presents, taking note of what makes Yuuri really smile and what he only nods at and puts into his bag. As the season gets colder, Viktor starts to pay more attention, not just to what makes Yuuri happy, but also to what makes him unhappy.

Yuuri is most unhappy about the fact that Viktor will not bite him yet. Every time Yuuri notices that Viktor has recently fed, his mouth always turns down in a little disappointed frown because Viktor drank others' blood. Viktor has yet to cross that boundary, still not trusting himself to keep from hurting Yuuri.

Maybe he wants to find out if his bloodlust is mere attraction or something more.

Despite the growing romance between him and Yuuri, the threat of the witch and the rogues hangs over the city. Viktor remains vigilant, but even he wonders if the witch has fled for good, or if something more treacherous lays in store for Yuuri. He is almost certain now that Yuuri is the target of the witch, based on some of the spells that the Minami coven was able to find at the witch's lair.

He does not worry, though. Viktor is nothing but pragmatic, and he knows his strengths. No witch will be able to hurt him again.

~*~

On the rainiest day Detroit has seen in six months, Yuuri is annoyed -- and miserable.

First, he woke up too early because Makkachin and Vicchan knocked something over downstairs and started barking at an ungodly hour. Yuuri got up to hush them, but he couldn't get back to sleep in time before his alarm, which made him cranky through coffee and toast.

Then he forgot his umbrella, because it hadn't started raining until he was on the highway, and by that point, Yuuri didn't care about turning back around because he had an appointment with a student that morning. His coat allowed some protection when Yuuri finally reached campus, but Yuuri's preferred spot was taken that morning, and he had to park further away than usual from his building.

He had been soaked by the time he reached the building's main doors. Then his student hadn't even shown up for the appointment!

Yuuri spends the next hour sulking into his coffee and ignoring the smell of wet dog. Makkachin and Vicchan got dried off with Yuuri's sweatshirt and have happily taken over the dog bed in the corner together, snoozing on top of each other, which Yuuri finds admittedly adorable.

He hadn't been too keen on Viktor setting up protection for him in the beginning, but he does feel better knowing that Makkachin can also take Vicchan in case something happens. He doesn't like to leave Vicchan alone at home now -- he still has nightmares of seeing a shadowy figure in his window -- and often takes Vicchan and Makkachin over to Viktor's in the evenings, if only just to have dinner with him and, more likely than not, end up in bed with him.

Viktor is one of a kind for a lover, Yuuri has found. Not that he has a lot of experience with significant others, but Viktor is passionate and caring while on the edge of overbearing, not enough that Yuuri gets too annoyed, but enough that he feels Viktor's presence around him even when the man is on the other side of the city. Having a vampire spend most of his time protecting you is a thrilling feeling.

Yuuri still doesn't believe Viktor is real, some days.

Being a child and growing up reading story after story -- coupled with tales of fiendish, dastardly plots -- made Yuuri romanticize Viktor Nikiforov. Now, he knows a little better. Viktor is selfish and petty, sometimes cruel and insensitive, but he never stops trying to please Yuuri, even when his efforts sometimes fall short.

The gifts have grown on Yuuri, despite his misgivings. He appreciates that Viktor _tries_ , even though the gifts are sometimes ridiculously extravagant. Still, Yuuri wonders if Viktor even realizes what Yuuri really wants.

He wants Viktor to bite him. To have Viktor drink his blood has been a lifelong dream since he first learned about vampires. He wants Viktor to make love to him and take his lifeforce, whatever may come afterwards. Viktor does not want to hurt him, but Yuuri has caught him staring every now and then, particularly when Yuuri tries to show off his neckline or bares his wrists. He did it many times in the summer, to tempt Viktor into biting him, but now the change in weather has prompted him to wear scarves and coats more often, hiding his most important asset when it comes to seducing a vampire. Viktor has proven to be as stubborn as Yuuri and continues to resist him.

Yuuri sighs a little as he thinks about it, drawing a few fingers against his neck, then glances down at his coffee. He should get a refill, but the office coffee isn't nearly as good as the cafe in the library across the street. Yuuri does _not_ want to get rained on again. Maybe he could borrow someone's umbrella, but he would have to take the dogs, and it's always a trial taking two dogs through the rain...

A knock at the door draws Yuuri out of his contemplation. "Come in, it's open," Yuuri says, only to be shocked when Viktor pushes the door open, smiling beatifically. Makkachin perks up when her master enters the room, carrying several bags and looking radiant as usual, wearing a sleek black coat over his suit. His long hair is perfectly tied back at the nape of his neck and hanging over his shoulder, dry and silken. He looks every inch the gentleman from a hundred years ago, and Yuuri can't help but love the sight of him.

Somehow, Viktor has not a drop of water on him.

 _Vampires_ , Yuuri thinks uncharitably.

"Good morning, darling," Viktor says, setting the bags on the desk and leaning down to kiss Yuuri at the corner of his mouth. Yuuri mumbles a greeting, watching as Viktor turns to kneel beside Makkachin and Vicchan to shower them with pets and kisses, his lips twitching despite his bad mood.

"What are you doing here?" Yuuri asks, then grimaces when he realizes how blunt he sounds.

"I brought you presents!" Viktor says, which makes Yuuri roll his eyes. He isn't even surprised at this point. Viktor loves to spoil him.

He is surprised, though, when Viktor pulls a drink from the cafe across the street out of one bag, along with a wrapped cinnamon roll. Viktor sets both in front of Yuuri with a flourish, and Yuuri stares blankly at the steam rising out of the cup for a few minutes. He can smell pumpkin spice. How did Viktor _know_?

He takes a sip and moans. Viktor pauses, but Yuuri pays him no attention, instead breathing in the scent of pumpkin spice for a few minutes. He doesn't notice when Viktor pulls something else out of another bag, nor when Viktor leans against the desk and smiles down at him.

He does notice when Viktor takes his cup out of his hands.

"Now, arms up," Viktor says, seconds before he grabs the hem to Yuuri's sweatshirt — still slightly damp and smelling vaguely of dog — and drags it over his head. Yuuri's response to that is not polite, but Viktor pretends not to hear when the rude word is muffled by his sweatshirt.

Yuuri catches his breath as soon as the sweatshirt is off, leaving him in only a t-shirt. "Viktor, what --" 

"Yuuri, try this on," Viktor orders, ignoring his irritated tone, pushing something much softer over Yuuri's head. Yuuri blinks a few times as the collar skews his glasses, reaching up to fix them and looking down.

Viktor has bought him a luxuriously soft sweater in deep blue, one of Yuuri's favorite colors. After a short moment, Yuuri reaches up to tug the sweater all the way on, shivering as the soft cloth slides over his arms. The collar is low, revealing his neck, while the sweater hugs him in all the right places. He lifts the sweater to his nose and breathes in the scents of rain and Viktor.

"You got me a sweater," Yuuri says quietly, blinking up at Viktor. Viktor is smiling in satisfaction as he reaches down to fix the sweater in a few places, his gloved hands certain of their actions, while Yuuri just sits there and lets Viktor do whatever he wants.

"You looked a little cold earlier in the rain. I also bought you an umbrella." Viktor leans down and cups Yuuri's face for a moment, then moves his hand down a little to Yuuri's neck, splaying possessively over his pulse. "You look splendid, my dear."

Yuuri looks at his hot breakfast, then down at his new sweater, then at the long black umbrella leaning against the door. He can't help a smile at how thoughtful Viktor has been this morning, leaning up to reward Viktor with a kiss.

"Thank you," Yuuri murmurs, tasting nothing but coffee, which pleases him. "I like everything."

"Good," Viktor purrs, kissing him more deeply for a moment, before drawing away. "I must be off to work, darling. Will you be home for dinner later?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuri says a little dazedly, watching Viktor gather up his empty bags before sauntering out the door. He thinks about the idea of _home_ for a minute, wondering at the feeling of _safety_ that Viktor inspires. Then Yuuri leans back in his chair and picks up his drink, savoring the taste as his new sweater rubs against his back. The cinnamon roll beside his keyboard beckons him into destroying his diet, and Yuuri cannot bring himself to care.

He could get used to being spoiled by a vampire.

~*~

Time goes on. The rogue attacks stop. Viktor talks with the city leaders, who start to wonder if the witch has been scared away. Viktor is doubtful, but he supposes it could be possible. The Council has yet to contact him about any other similar attacks in America, and the Crispino clan's contacts have not reported any strange activity nearby. Viktor does not relax, though; in his experience, witches rarely give up on their targets.

Viktor does wonder what he will do when the witch is defeated, though. He likes the Crispino and Babicheva clans, and he even tolerates the Minami coven. He could stay in Detroit and continue to build contacts with the other vampire clans, perhaps spreading his business to New York City or Boston, or even Toronto. Detroit is an interesting city, and Viktor has been bored for too long.

Then there is Yuuri, whom Viktor does not want to let go. Yet Yuuri is mortal, and no matter how much Viktor adores him, someday Yuuri will die a mortal death. Viktor can barely imagine such a future. Yuuri has his complete devotion -- and somehow, Yuuri returns those feelings, in the sweet kisses and smiles and laughter he shares with Viktor. Yuuri has yet to consider becoming a vampire, and Viktor is hesitant to change a hunter's child, for fear of enraging Yuuri's family.

Yet he _wants_ a future with Yuuri, and that worries him. If Yuuri leaves him, Viktor may simply fade away, because nothing else in the world will be as bright and beautiful and _good_. He has never felt so strongly for someone before, let alone for a human. Perhaps he should take Yuuri away and kill him himself, so that Yuuri never grows old without him; perhaps he should leave as soon as the witch is dealt with and never look back.

Viktor worries, but he never shares these thoughts with Yuuri, preferring to keep their relationship as free of stress as possible. Yuuri has enough to worry about -- and yet, somehow, it seems as if Yuuri knows anyway, with the occasional thoughtful look he sends Viktor sometimes, or the way he falls into uneasy silence whenever a conversation strays too close to the topic of vampires or mortality.

On a night when the wind makes the shutters rap against the windows, blowing cold air from the north and threatening an icy morning, Viktor finds himself distracted from these morbid thoughts by Yuuri, resting in his arms as they listen to one of Viktor's CDs. 

His music system, set up to play throughout the house on speakers installed in each room, is one of the few modern creations that Viktor truly enjoys. They may not be original recordings, most of the time, but Viktor always enjoyed music in his long years as a vampire, spending his evenings listening to symphonies and operas and plays, until he learned of recordings that he could play over and over.

Yuuri, who has been trained in ballet, likes this part of his lifestyle, since Viktor does not approve of television. They often sit together in the evenings and listen to different albums, and Viktor loves that Yuuri enjoys much of the same music that he does. He sometimes lets Yuuri play his own music from his phone, which he does not always enjoy, but he is willing to learn more of Yuuri's preferences.

Yuuri has his eyes closed, leaning against Viktor's side with one hand resting on Viktor's arm, lightly resting around his waist, his bare fingers lightly stroking Yuuri's hip. Yuuri's head is tilted back against the couch, his expression serene as he listens, in a lull of relaxation. Viktor has yet to take his eyes off Yuuri, though he is steadily growing more distracted from the music by the expanse of soft skin under Yuuri's ear.

Yuuri could belong to him, if Viktor would simply lean down and take what he desires. Their relationship as vampire and donor is even official, though Viktor still does not approve.

That morning, Yuuri tricked Viktor into signing a contract, with a human police officer witnessing, that would allow Viktor to drink Yuuri's blood with impunity. Viktor had not enjoyed the argument preceding the contract, but he had eventually given in, since Yuuri had wanted it so much. After demonstrating that he was not under Viktor's thrall by revealing his amulet, Yuuri's acquaintance Nishigori Takeshi had signed the papers to witness, presenting his wife Yuuko to notarize the final contract.

Viktor had signed with a flourish, using his gold fountain pen and blue ink, which he then offered to Yuuri, who had never used a fountain pen in his life and promptly made a terrible ink splot next to his name. Viktor had been charmed and promptly took Yuuri to his office to practice with his nicest pens and inks, which Yuuri had called ridiculous.

Viktor hadn't let him walk away with that insult. Yuuri had been late for his next class, and the following day, Kenjirou had buzzed around the office about "Professor Katsuki and his injury." Yuuri had not been pleased about the limp, but Viktor had been very smug.

He does not feel so smug now. He worries that he will hurt Yuuri beyond repair, that his obsession with Yuuri's sweet blood will drive a wedge between them. He worries he will scare Yuuri, even though Yuuri has said time and again that he wants Viktor to bite him.

He has never wanted to protect someone like this. To keep Yuuri safe from all danger, even himself... Viktor can scarcely understand the depth of his own feelings.

The music accelerates, growing louder briefly, and Yuuri's pulse jumps a little. Viktor can see the tiny thumps of his heartbeat beneath his skin, pumping sweet blood through his veins. His fangs ache just listening to it. He barely notices the music any longer, turning his focus completely to Yuuri's relaxed heart rate. Yuuri would surely react with surprise if Viktor bit him; he might become scared, or just as likely, aroused and impassioned. He might beg Viktor for more. He might give himself completely to Viktor, letting Viktor drain him.

Ah, how badly Viktor wishes to taste him... he wishes to pin Yuuri to the floor by his hands and bite him so deeply that all Yuuri can feel is him. He wants to spread Yuuri's legs and slide home, filling him with his lust as he drains Yuuri of his lifeforce. He wants Yuuri to scream for him, to beg for Viktor to finish him off, then cry when Viktor keeps going, until his voice fades away.

Then he wishes to carry Yuuri upstairs and tuck him into bed, to curl around him and hold him as his heart beats in his chest, still alive.

Viktor does not like to leave his victims alive. He has done so out of respect for Yuuri's human ethics, but Viktor personally does not care if his victims live or die. Yuuri, though...

Viktor cannot imagine killing Yuuri any longer. Perhaps in the beginning, his fantasies ran morbidly dark, but now Viktor can picture the next moment after Yuuri's last breath, and he hates the very idea. He wants Yuuri to live forever.

He could change Yuuri. One of the stipulations in the contract was that if Viktor took too much blood for Yuuri to survive, he was allowed to change him. He could drain Yuuri, then change him into his childe, giving Yuuri the gift of eternal life.

One little bite is all he needs. Yuuri would never expect it, and he would be upset afterwards, but he would stay with Viktor all the same. Yuuri had made sure that requirement was in the contract, after all.

Viktor swallows as he stares. One little bite... but he _shouldn't._ Yuuri hasn't even asked him for it.

Just one little bite...

"You can, if you want," Yuuri murmurs, not opening his eyes. Viktor goes still with shock, his eyes widening.

He swallows against his suddenly dry throat. His fangs ache harder, elongating at the mere idea of sinking into that delicate neck. Viktor could bite him other places, too -- his wrists, his inner thigh, his lips. The neck is his favorite, though, and Yuuri has such a pretty neck...

"I should not," Viktor whispers. Yuuri shifts, and in the next moment, Viktor is falling. He lands on top of Yuuri and breathes in sharply as warm arms wind around him, looking down into Yuuri's smiling face, faintly flushed at his forwardness. 

"Viktor... I really want it. I've been thinking about it all day," Yuuri whispers, biting on his bottom lip, one foot pressing against Viktor's ankle teasingly. "Please? Just one little bite... to try it out. If I don't like it, I'll push you off."

Viktor almost scoffs at the idea of a human pushing him off, but he knows that he would do anything Yuuri wanted him to do. He would let go in an instant if Yuuri pushed him away, instincts be damned.

Realization sweeps through him. He will do anything for Yuuri -- even pull away. If Yuuri changes his mind at any point, he can stop Viktor... and Viktor can trust that Yuuri will be honest with him about those desires. The thought cements itself in his mind, and his expression softens.

"My dear Yuuri, you should not ask me to defile your beautiful body in such a way," Viktor purrs. He settles more comfortably on top of Yuuri, knowing how Yuuri likes to feel his weight, and enjoys the way Yuuri grows more flushed at their intimate positions. 

"It's not defiling if I want it," Yuuri says stubbornly. Viktor laughs softly and leans down to kiss the corner of Yuuri's lips.

"You still should not, my dear," Viktor murmurs, brushing the words against Yuuri's mouth, then turning his face away when Yuuri tries to take the words for himself, evading his kiss. He touches Yuuri's chin and turns his head away, baring his neck for his own enjoyment, while paying close attention to how Yuuri's body reacts to the submissive pose before a predator.

Yuuri shudders and arches a little. His excitement soothes Viktor's heart a little more.

"I have resisted you all this time. Even just scenting you made me thirsty," Viktor whispers, brushing his cold lips against Yuuri's ear, dragging the soft lobe between his teeth. He follows the little bite with his tongue, hearing Yuuri gasp. "Ever since that first taste... my love, how I long for you."

"You have me. All of me, Viktor." Yuuri reaches up to touch Viktor's hair, sweeping it over his other shoulder, hiding both of them behind a curtain of silver. "I want it, so please..."

Viktor closes his eyes briefly, his lips pausing just above Yuuri's pulse, beating quickly in anticipation. His dear Yuuri, so needy and sweet... how has Viktor denied him for so long? His fangs are aching fiercely now, his mouth watering at the anticipated flavor of Yuuri's blood.

Just one little bite...

"You will stop me if you must," Viktor murmurs, waiting for Yuuri to acknowledge his desire, then parts his lips to reveal his long fangs. Then he sinks into Yuuri's neck, his body going hot as the first splash of blood hits his tongue. Yuuri goes taut at the invasion, then lets out a strangled moan, his body rocking up into Viktor.

Yuuri tastes like nothing Viktor has ever consumed before. He is sweetness and fire and beauty; he is sublime and potent and _delicious._ That first taste so long ago, and those scant moments between then and now, are _nothing_ compared to a proper drink, and Viktor realizes he will not be able to stop.

His bloodlust surges. His most important prey is beneath him, willingly submitting to him. Viktor should bite him and drain every drop, and then turn Yuuri afterward into his own, his mate. He should fuck Yuuri right here, claiming him in his own home and making him scream for mercy. He should gorge himself on Yuuri's blood until he can no longer move, until Yuuri is gone and his beautiful heart stops beating -- and then Viktor will have nothing left --

_No._

Yuuri will stop him. Viktor can trust in that. He pushes his bloodlust back and remains gentle, determined not to hurt Yuuri.

He drinks deeply, slowly so as not to send Yuuri into shock, his power alleviating the pain and leaving Yuuri in a state of bliss. Each swallow burns inside him, a beacon that guides him to the brilliance of Yuuri's heart, and he finds himself being very careful of each soft beat of Yuuri's pulse. He could drink nothing but this for the rest of his life -- he could drink _nothing_ after tonight, and he would live in happiness forever. No other blood can compare. No one else in the world compares to Yuuri.

Yuuri keeps making little sighs and whimpers, his hands clutching the back of Viktor's shirt. Viktor listens to those sweet moans, his body aching in other ways as Yuuri keens, so obviously aroused by Viktor biting him. Viktor wants nothing more than to appease Yuuri's lust, to sink into him in all the ways that matter and take what Yuuri so desperately wants to give him.

When Yuuri's heart rate starts to change, Viktor's heart seizes with anxiety, and he gently slides his fangs out of Yuuri's delicate neck. He drags his tongue over the faintly bleeding wounds, sealing them and leaving them healed but for two little marks. Then he pulls back, opening bright red eyes to gaze down at Yuuri, taking in his faint pallor and slight sheen of sweat, and the soft, dark look to his eyes. Yuuri lifts his gaze, breathing shakily as he looks at Viktor.

"You stopped?"

"I told you, I do not wish to hurt you," Viktor says gently. He does not miss the disappointment in Yuuri's face.

"That was... so good. It was everything I wanted," Yuuri says, groaning as he arches his back, deliberately rubbing himself against Viktor. "Please, Viktor, I feel so hot... can't you do it some more?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Viktor whispers, his heart giving a thrill at the thought of tasting Yuuri _again_. He actually won against his bloodlust, which has been simmering for Yuuri's blood for months. He can drink from Yuuri safely... he need not fear for Yuuri's life.

A noise at the window pulls Viktor's attention away from Yuuri. He turns his head and goes still, seeing someone watching him from the darkness. His lips immediately pull back in a snarl, baring his fangs at the intruder, protective of his vulnerable lover. Soft violet eyes blink once, then disappear; the mark of a newly turned vampire.

Fury fills him, leaving Viktor blind with rage for a moment. How _dare_ a miscreant spy on his sacred time with Yuuri. He knows without a doubt that this is the work of the witch, and Viktor refuses to let this continue any longer.

"Yuuri, there is a rogue outside. Stay here with Makkachin," Viktor orders, climbing off Yuuri and grabbing his shoes. He does not bother with a coat or his other clothes, as the cold has little effect on him. 

"What?" Yuuri sits up halfway, then gives a little gasp and sags as his weakness reveals itself.

"A miscreant. Someone was watching us. I will take care of them." Viktor strides to the windows and yanks the curtains shut, then walks to Yuuri and picks him up, shadow-walking to his basement. A few weeks ago, Viktor installed a modest bed and repurposed one of the fridges for proper food, so that if Yuuri was ever brought down here, he would have a safe place to rest while waiting for the all-clear. Viktor also made certain that Yuuri can get out through the door in case Makkachin is not with him, but _only_ when he feels that it is safe.

Viktor lays Yuuri on the bed and pulls the covers over his body, already shivering from low blood. He pauses to fetch Yuuri a bottle of juice and a few snacks, then returns to the bed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. A moment later, Makkachin hops into the basement through the shadows, carrying Vicchan by the scruff of his neck. When Makkachin puts the smaller dog down, Vicchan jumps onto the bed and wriggles up beside Yuuri, giving him some much-needed warmth. Makkachin joins them, taking up the other side to face the door, protective of her charges.

"Viktor, wait," Yuuri says, his eyes going wide. He sounds afraid, and Viktor hates to leave him alone. "Will you be okay? Should you call for help?"

"Do not worry, my love. I have a plan," Viktor promises. He hesitates just a moment, drawing one finger along Yuuri's face, then giving him a small smile. "Everything will be alright. Stay safe."

"Viktor, wait --"

Viktor does not wait, reluctantly leaving Yuuri behind as he disappears through the shadows. With the wards on his house, he must leave through the front door, and so he appears in the foyer, pulling open the door as his expression sets into something terrifying. He pauses to make a phone call to Crispino Services to alert the other vampires in the city, then sets off down the steps after he locks his house.

He sees the rogue again at the end of the street. With a low growl, Viktor sets off in pursuit.

The rogue leads him west of the city. The distance means nothing to Viktor, who could cross the entire state on foot if he chose, but he dislikes being so far away from Yuuri. Suburbia gives way to nature, and Viktor finds himself alone in a forest, following the rogue along the banks of a river.

A rogue should not be faster than him. Viktor suspects the creature is aided by magic, which irritates him. He slows and vanishes into the shadows of the trees, not wanting to take part in this chase any longer; he suspects the rogue is leading him somewhere, and he has little care to fall into another trap.

He steps out of the other side of shadow and grabs the rogue by the back of the neck, earning a shriek as he yanks the rogue around and slams them to a tree, a shadow spear forming in his other hand. Then he pauses when he lays eyes on the rogue, because he recognizes her.

Samantha, the girl who fills in for his administrative assistants on occasion. The last time he saw her -- just a week ago -- she was human.

"Childe, what have you done to yourself?" Viktor says gently. The girl stares at him with wide violet eyes, no recognition in her madness. Her eye color shows how young she is to her new eternal life, too fresh to drink blood without guidance of her sire. Viktor narrows his eyes, wondering who changed her, and how she might be involved with the witch.

She hisses at him, and Viktor sighs. Perhaps she can be saved, if he can get the girl to her sire, who can cement her sense of belonging. Since she has not attacked anyone, there may still be hope for her. With a grimace, Viktor takes a moment to knock Samantha out without killing her, then shadow-walks to the Crispino clan residence to hand her off to someone there.

Viktor ends up speaking to one of the Crispino family members -- the twin brother of Sara, Michele, who gives him a narrow-eyed look but accepts the girl with the promise to take care of her. With Michele glaring at his back, Viktor leaves the Crispino mansion, appearing back in the woods where he caught the rogue. Hie eyes narrow as he scans the silent trees -- not even the sounds of insects or birds can be heard.

He walks deeper into the woods, following the river. A trail turns off the river and goes left, and Viktor almost ignores it, but for a few drops of blood on the ground. He considers the trail and the darkened woods beyond the river cautiously, then stalks forward.

If the witch is here, they will be using spells to mask their presence, which is to Viktor's disadvantage. He wishes to discern if the witch is actually present, then return to Yuuri as quickly as possible. Makkachin will protect his beloved, but Viktor wants to be with them.

Yet if he can find the witch, he can destroy them once and for all.

Viktor takes another step into the darkness -- and suddenly everything around him goes purple-white in a great explosion. Viktor screams as he is thrown back, hitting the ground hard and arching with a gasp. Something hits his head a moment later, and he loses consciousness.

Viktor drifts in a world of fire and pain. He hears muttering in a deep voice that is somewhat familiar on the edge of his focus. He feels a spark of magic, followed by a searing pain in his chest, which makes him scream.

" _This is for Anya,_ " a deep voice says in Russian. 

Then Viktor knows nothing at all.

~*~

Yuuri stirs when he hears an odd thump. He blinks into the dim light of the basement, first glancing at Vicchan pressed against his side, then at Makkachin, who is no longer on the bed. Instead Makkachin stands at the door, her hackles raised. Yuuri looks around for Viktor but doesn't see him, which worries him.

His neck gives a faint pang, reminding him of what he gave Viktor tonight. Finally, _finally_ Yuuri convinced Viktor to bite him, and it had been everything he had ever wanted. Viktor had been gentle, thorough, and every moment had felt fantastic. Yuuri wanted everything. He would have let Viktor take him there on the couch, with Viktor's fangs in his neck at the same time. Yuuri would have given up his humanity in that instant, but Viktor had pulled away, protective as always.

Then the rogue had appeared, causing Viktor's protectiveness to appear in a fury. Yuuri shivers at the memory of Viktor snarling at the window, which still leaves him a little breathless. He pushes himself up slowly and looks around the room once more, waiting for Viktor to reappear, but he does not.

He hears another thump upstairs. Makkachin lets out a strange whine, like she wants to go upstairs but doesn't like the idea. Yuuri climbs out of bed carefully, shushing Vicchan when he wakes and barks once. A sudden cracks sounds, glass shattering upstairs, and Yuuri goes stiff with worry.

Is it Viktor? Is it something else? Yuuri cannot simply hide away while something attacks Viktor's home.

He feels better after sleeping for a while. The juice and snacks earlier helped him regain some energy. Yuuri should stay down here until Viktor reappears... but he is worried, and he wants to know what is going on. Perhaps Crispino Services arrived.

Yuuri considers it for a moment, then reaches under the bed for the small cache of weapons he keeps in the room for situations like this. He pulls out one of his guns, already loaded with silver bullets, then approaches the door, keeping his gun lowered at his side.

When he steps out of the room, the house is silent. Makkachin barrels up the stairs, but Yuuri shuts the door before Vicchan can follow, climbing slowly after Makkachin. He reaches the top of the stairs and hesitates, then turns the corner and lifts his gun. He freezes at what he sees.

Viktor stands in the doorway, his shirt open and his feet bare, his hair free of its tie and loose around his shoulders. His arms hang at his side, and his eyes are glowing bright red, sending a shiver through Yuuri. His face is expressionless, but he looks _wild_. In the middle of his bare chest is a glowing purple sigil, blood trickling down from it, which makes Yuuri realizes that the sigil is a _wound_. A witch has spelled Viktor with something terrible, using blood magic to hurt him, which infuriates Yuuri.

Makkachin paces along the wall, not going near Viktor, her whining high-pitched with worry. Even she senses that something is very wrong about Viktor. Yuuri swallows, not lowering his gun -- he isn't _stupid_ \-- and steps forward.

"Viktor?" Yuuri calls out cautiously. Viktor lifts his head at the sound, focusing on Yuuri. A second later, his form blurs, reappearing in front of Yuuri and knocking the gun away. Yuuri cries out in surprise, hitting Viktor in the chest, but Viktor catches his hands and slams him against the wall, staring down at him with blank eyes. Makkachin starts barking, and Viktor snarls at her, making her go quiet with a whimper.

This isn't Viktor, who would _never_ be harsh with Makkachin. Viktor has lost himself.

Viktor is turning into a rogue vampire.

Yuuri brings up his knee to strike Viktor, and Viktor swiftly pins his wrists with one clawed hand and grabs his knee with the other, pushing Yuuri's leg back down. Yuuri thrashes against his grip, but Viktor leans in before Yuuri can twist away and smells his neck deeply.

"Yuuri," Viktor whispers, which makes Yuuri realizes that Viktor is somewhere inside this beast. He stays still for a moment as Viktor explores his neck, paying close attention to the bite mark he left hours ago, then makes himself melt against the wall. Viktor stiffens slightly, but Yuuri turns his head submissively, which is to his benefit -- Viktor lets him go.

Yuuri immediately reaches for his arm, where he fastened his amulet weeks ago in anticipation of Viktor biting him, knowing that the amulet would hurt Viktor if it stayed around his neck. He pulls the chain off his wrist and presses the amulet against Viktor's chest, directly over the sigil, which makes Viktor go taut as the amulet flashes blue.

Viktor falls to the floor. Yuuri drops beside him and straddles his waist to pin him down, then moves to hold the amulet against his throat, keeping Viktor still with its magic. With the amulet activated, Viktor cannot move a muscle so long as the amulet is against his skin. Relieved to have a moment to consider what to do, Yuuri meets Viktor's gaze and inhales softly with shock.

Viktor is crying, his eyes wild with fear and anger, flickers of his normal elegant self surfacing behind the beastly state he is in. His long fangs are bared threateningly, but Yuuri is not afraid of him. Instinct keeps his hand still, pressing the amulet against Viktor's skin. After a moment, Viktor lets out a growl, his voice strained as if his throat is sore. Had he been screaming for a while?

What did the witch do to him?

"Shh, it's okay, Viktor," Yuuri soothes, cupping Viktor's cheek with one hand. Viktor is cold from being outside for so long, and his cheek is wet with proof of his fear. Yuuri wipes away the tears and smiles a little. "It's just me. It's Yuuri. This is your home. Makkachin is here, and she wants to be near you. Please come back to me."

After a long moment, Viktor's eyes start to clear of their eerie blankness, while the sigil on his chest flickers. He grimaces, before a sudden look of shock passes over his face at his position and current state. Relieved, Yuuri pulls the amulet away.

"That damn witch," Viktor hisses, closing his eyes tightly. "Turning me... into miscreant. Rogue. I'll hurt you, Yuuri." His bright red gaze snaps open and fixates on Yuuri. "You have to... kill me..."

Yuuri breathes in sharply. "What?"

"Kill me. Else I kill you." Viktor gasps as the sigil in his chest flares, then turns his attention to his right hand. Yuuri follows his gaze, going stiff when a large, wickedly sharp staff made of shadow appears in Viktor's palm. Viktor drops it on the floor, panting at the effort he put into the act. "Use... that."

"Absolutely not! Viktor, please, you have to snap out of it!"

Viktor does not reply. His eyes roll back in his head, his body spasming briefly beneath Yuuri, before he slowly opens his eyes. The blankness has returned, flickering every so often, as the magic struggles to keep its hold over him. He does not move to hurt Yuuri, but Yuuri thinks it is only a matter of time. He can barely believe he is in this situation, that Viktor is being ripped away from him like this, and he _hates it._

"Viktor, please," Yuuri begs. He doesn't want Viktor to be a rogue. He doesn't want to watch Viktor lose himself to madness. He wants Viktor to stay beside him -- and that shocks him, that he wants a vampire to stay at his side, always and forever. He would even become a vampire himself, if he could stay with Viktor that way. If Viktor is a rogue, though, he will not change Yuuri now -- he will simply kill him.

Dying at Viktor's hands may be preferable to living without him. Yet Yuuri refuses to give him up.

"I won't lose you like this," Yuuri says, his voice trembling. Before Viktor can do anything, Yuuri reaches down and wraps the gold chain of the amulet around Viktor's neck, fastening the clasp. The amulet falls to the hollow of Viktor's throat, glowing faintly blue for a moment, before it flashes and erupts with a bright light. 

Viktor screams. Yuuri is thrown back by the force of the spell, landing a few feet away and gasping as he hits his back. He turns onto his side, watching Viktor with wide eyes. After several moments, the glow fades away. Yuuri scrambles to Viktor's side, his heart jolting when he sees that the magical sigil in Viktor's chest is gone, the lines of the spell remaining and bleeding sluggishly. Yuuri can already see the wounds stitching closed, which makes him sag against Viktor, bowing over his chest as tears begin to fall. Viktor remains unconscious, his eyes closed as Yuuri cries.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, his arms tightening around Viktor. He almost lost Viktor. He doesn't think he can bear losing him ever again.

~*~

Viktor wakes slowly to an aching body and a strange, hollow feeling in his head. He can hear the soft, familiar heartbeats of his lover and their dogs around him, and for a while he listens to those dear sounds, wondering why his memory seems to have gaps. He feels anxious, as if he has been dreaming of his ancient past, of terrible things he would rather leave forgotten. What did he do last night...?

He tastes blood on his tongue -- _Yuuri's blood._ His eyes fly open as he suddenly recalls that blissful moment of biting into Yuuri and drinking from him properly. Then he sits up when he remembers what followed.

He found the rogue and stalked it -- and was attacked by the witch. He remembers running, chasing after the sweet scent of the blood that lingered on his tongue and called to him. He hunted for _Yuuri._ And he found him.

Yet Viktor is himself again, and he is in bed with Yuuri. He is nude beneath the sheets, his preferred way of sleeping, and his wounds have been cleaned and given treatment, the same ointments that Viktor keeps in his bathroom. Yuuri must have brought him here and cleaned him up.

Beside him, one of the bodies in Viktor's bed shifts, and Yuuri lifts his head, rubbing at his eyes. "Viktor...? You're awake!" Yuuri sits up hurriedly, reaching up to Viktor's face, but Viktor grabs his hands in a vice-like grip, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Yuuri," Viktor says dumbly. Yuuri is wearing his normal sleeping clothes, a shirt and sleep shorts. Viktor grabs the collar of Yuuri's shirt and yanks it aside to look at his neck.

Nothing but faint bite marks, already healed. The first and only set of wounds Viktor left on Yuuri before. He exhales shakily and lets go of Yuuri's shirt, gathering Yuuri to his chest and holding him tightly.

"Viktor, too tight," Yuuri gasps, and Viktor reluctantly eases his embrace a little. He does not let Yuuri go, though.

"I attacked you," Viktor whispers. He can see it in his mind's eye: entering the house and spying Yuuri, beautiful and ethereal and so tempting. He fought Yuuri and was overtaken, and when he tried to come back to himself, he begged Yuuri to kill him. After that, Viktor's memory is a blank slate.

"It's okay, Viktor," Yuuri soothes, reaching up to wrap his arms around Viktor, his eyes closing with a smile. "You were under a spell. My amulet, the one that protects me from your allure, it has spells on it that block magical influence. I put it on you, and it broke the spell." Yuuri shifts away after a moment and reaches up between them, touching Viktor's chest where the lines of a sigil are already fading, his skin freshly healed.

Viktor follows the motion and stares at his chest, remembering a vivid, burning pain as the witch carved the sigil into his skin. He grimaces and turns to hide his face in Yuuri's shoulder, breathing out shakily. "I could have killed you. I am so sorry, Yuuri..."

"It's okay, I'm okay. We're all okay," Yuuri promises, pulling Viktor close again.

His brave Yuuri, fighting for Viktor's life, when Viktor himself was out to kill him. How can Viktor face him now? Yet the fact that Yuuri brought him to his own bedroom and took care of him after their ordeal speaks of Yuuri's feelings for him. Viktor can only feel relief that Yuuri was not hurt, though he hates himself for hunting Yuuri and nearly destroying him. He had been so lost beneath the witch's spell -- he had not known himself. He had only known of Yuuri's blood and how it sung to him.

He should not have bitten Yuuri and renewed his own bloodlust last night.

At the end of the bed, Makkachin sits up and lets out a noise, catching Viktor's attention. As soon as he looks at his beloved dog, her tail starts wagging, and she wiggles against the sheets, whining for him. Viktor remembers snapping at her in his wild state, and he aches, letting go of Yuuri and opening his arms for Makkachin. Immediately, she crawls into his arms and starts licking his face, which makes Viktor shudder in relief.

"I'm so sorry, my darling Makkachin. I was so mean to you," Viktor murmurs, rubbing Makkachin's fluffy cheeks. Yuuri sits back to watch them, Vicchan wriggling into his lap, as Viktor reassures both himself and Makkachin of his love for her, spending several minutes petting her before he feels like he can let go.

"What time is it, Yuuri?" Viktor asks quietly. He guesses that they have already reached morning, by the light peeking through the curtains.

"A little after seven," Yuuri replies, after checking his phone. He sets the device down and scoots closer to Viktor, leaning into his side. "Viktor... what happened to you? What about the rogue?"

"I caught the rogue and sent her to the Crispino clan. I believe she has not attacked anybody and was newly turned, so I hope that they were able to find her sire and turn her back from her wild state. She was an employee of mine."

Yuuri's eyes go wide. "What?"

"One of the young ladies working at my office. She was human before. I assume she was turned willingly, but one never knows. She led me into a trap." 

Viktor sighs deeply and lies back against the pillows, letting Makkachin go as he pulls Yuuri down with him. Makkachin gives him another lick before hopping off the bed and leaving the room, followed by Vicchan. Viktor turns his face into Yuuri's neck and breathes in deeply, disturbed by his memories of their ordeal. His eyes narrow slightly as he recalls the voice that spoke over him, muttering spells and curses, drenched in hatred.

"That's terrible," Yuuri mumbles, his human body a furnace against Viktor's side. He reaches up to play with Viktor's hair, sounding distracted as they rest together. "So the witch... caught you?"

"Another explosive spell, like the one I set off behind your house. In my delirium, the witch captured me and bespelled me. I had no sense of myself. I was mad with desire. I wished only to take what I wanted... you. Your blood."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment. His fingers never stop their soothing strokes through Viktor's hair. "I told you, it's okay, Viktor. You fought against the spell, and you survived. And you didn't hurt me."

"I could have," Viktor whispers. "You could have died."

"But you _didn't_!" Yuuri sits up suddenly and glares at him, grabbing Viktor by the shoulders, taking care to avoid his wounds even in his anger. "You protected me, Viktor. You did your absolute best to keep me safe, and I love you for that. Everything is fine now, and I won't let you stew in your own guilt any longer. If, if you're so worried about my mortality, then I can change for you, you can change me right now --"

Viktor surges up and kisses Yuuri, too overwhelmed by his words to do anything but need him. He pulls Yuuri into his lap when Yuuri embraces him, needing to feel him. Though he hurt Yuuri so badly, Yuuri _forgives_ him and still loves him. What did he do to deserve this amazing person?

He barely understands it.

Yet with Yuuri's forgiveness, Viktor believes he can move past what happened. The idea of changing Yuuri into a vampire empowers him, though he knows they should discuss it properly, perhaps draw up another formal document with a witness, and definitely after this witch is handled -- but for now, he simply wants Yuuri.

Yuuri breaks away first, squirming in Viktor's lap. "Viktor, what about your wounds?"

"They will heal," Viktor says, unbothered by the pain. His lips curl after a moment. "Though if I were to have your blood again..."

"So soon after you drank from me yesterday?" Yuuri asks weakly. Then he flushes pink. "Though... if you turn me, then..."

Viktor shakes his head gently, though he _burns_ at the thought of turning Yuuri. "Not yet, my dear. Not until I defeat the witch and can focus on you completely. We have much to prepare... like a wedding ceremony." He enjoys the way Yuuri's eyes go wide and vulnerable at the declaration. "It will not be much longer... Please be patient, my love, my beautiful Yuuri."

Yuuri flushes pleasantly at the sweet epithets, looking briefly disappointed by the soft rejection, then worried. "What about the witch? If you can't find them..."

Viktor's smirk slowly widens. "Ah, but my dear Yuuri, that wretch made a fatal error. He let me hear his voice, and I know who he is."

Yuuri's eyes widen slightly. "Who is it?"

"An old friend of mine, who later became my enemy. But no matter... for now, let me be with you," Viktor purrs, revitalized by Yuuri's love. He slides his hands down to Yuuri's backside and squeezes, grinning when Yuuri's dark gaze turns liquid hot.

"I'm all yours, Viktor."

~*~

Two weeks later, Viktor walks with purpose through the woods that surround the Rouge River, twirling a long chain with his pocket watch in one hand. He has chosen to adorn his favorite suit, a black silk ensemble with a silver tie and a deep red handkerchief, to match the burning color in his eyes. His hair is neatly tied with a ribbon entwined with crimson and silver, his sleek boots nearly invisible in the darkness. He hums under his breath, appeased that this hunt will finally come to an end today. He only hopes that Yuuri does not get involved with the impending battle.

The evening has grown late, thunder rumbling in the distance and chasing away any romantics in the woods, save for Viktor himself. The woods are interspersed with pathways, creeks, and overgrown fields, where youths have spent many an evening drinking or hanging out with friends. Viktor can smell the stench of humans here, and he can sense something deeper than that: magic, cast with abandon. 

Now that he knows what to look for, his old friend's spells cannot block his senses any longer. The thin film melts away, and Viktor knows exactly where his enemy is. 

Yuuri drove him here, but Viktor left him at the car with Makkachin. Despite his warnings, he knows that Yuuri has followed him -- he can hear him walking and muttering to Makkachin about this "foolish plan." Viktor did not truly believe he would be able to keep Yuuri away from this confrontation. The only reason Yuuri agreed to it in the first place is because they have Crispino Services on hand, as well as Yuuri's contacts from the police, closing in on the other sides of the witch's location.

Viktor pauses at the edge of a small field in the middle of the woods, the river flowing quietly on one side of the clearing, smiling slightly when he sees a figure standing in the overgrown grass. Purple witch lights float in the air, revealing a tiny camp set up beneath the open sky, shielded from the vision of normal humans. Viktor swings the watch one last time and lets it land in his hand, tucking it into the pocket of his vest and patting it, then striding forward.

Lightning flashes, revealing his presence. The figure turns in shock, flabbergasted by his presence.

"Georgi, my dear friend," Viktor says, stopping several yards from the figure. "How surreptitious to meet you here."

"Viktor," says Georgi Popovich blankly, his dark blue eyes widening. His hair is clipped short in a modern style, and he is wearing a heavy coat to ward off the chill. His tent is meager, joined by a small fire pit and a cobbled table with a simmering cauldron, classic witch additions that make Viktor shake his head. Even he knows that modern witches are a great deal more enterprising. It seems Georgi has truly reached the limits of survival.

Then again, Georgi is nearly as old as him, so it is no surprise to Viktor that he still clings to the old ways. Never mind his madness -- witches who maintain immortality through magic tend to lose their minds after a certain number of years. 

Georgi narrows his eyes. "How did you find me?"

Viktor smiles. "I merely followed the scent of desperation. You have bested me twice since you arrived, but I no longer care for entertaining this game. Not after what you did to my beloved." He tilts his head when he hears footsteps in the woods nearby. "Now, Georgi, you should surrender graciously."

"Surrender?" Georgi repeats, then laughs. "As if, Viktor! No, I am here for my revenge!"

Viktor blinks. Surely he misheard. "Revenge? What on earth have I done to you, Georgi?"

Georgi stalks forward, pointing at Viktor in affront. "You know what you did! After you turned my dear, sweet Anya into a monster like you! I could not let you get away with it, Viktor! So I took action. I came to this city and set my trap. The bait? Rogue vampires attacking a sanctuary city. I knew you worked for that Council that polices other vampires, and I convinced them to send you, and they did! You walked right into my trap!" Georgi starts laughing, high and mad with power, his plan finally revealed.

Viktor simply stares for a moment, bewildered. The last time he saw Georgi Popovich was two hundred years ago, when Georgi was miserable over his ex-girlfriend becoming a vampire. Viktor had comforted him, given him a large amount of alcohol, then swiftly left when Georgi's depression turned to anger, and he began throwing spells. Viktor has never made sense of the end of their friendship, but he never trusted witches since then.

Surely Georgi has not held a grudge all this time?

"Georgi," Viktor says slowly, "I have never even met Anya."

"Lies!" Georgi shouts. "You turned her into a vampire! She was my darling, and you stole her from me!" To Viktor's shock, Georgi starts to cry, furiously wiping his tears with his sleeve before lifting his hand and muttering under his breath, summoning a burning yellow light. Viktor eyes it warily.

"Georgi, I have not created any progeny in four centuries. The last person I made into a vampire was young Nikolai Plisetsky, a Russian noble boy. The last I heard, he has a human grandchild, who is studying in Moscow. I send the family gifts every year."

Georgi stops short in his rage, blinking at Viktor. "But... you changed Anya. My friends told me so. They said that she went to a white-haired man in St. Petersburg, and came back a vampire!"

Viktor wants to cover his face in exasperation. Two hundred years of _this_? No wonder Anya left Georgi.

"Georgi," Viktor says tiredly, "there were several hundred vampires in St. Petersburg at that time, and many of them had white hair. Does this look white to you?" He shakes his hair at Georgi, then drops his ponytail in disgust. "I promise you, with utmost honesty, that I did not turn your precious Anya into a vampire, nor have I done anything to offend you in the past two centuries since we last met. You, on the other hand..."

His eyes narrow, and Georgi blanches. "You have turned countless vampires into rogues with magic that violates the precarious relationship between vampires and witches. With those rogues, you have caused the deaths of four humans. Those vampires have _died_. You have injured a young witch. You have _hurt my beloved._ "

Viktor smiles slowly. "I do not suffer fools. You were my friend once, but no more. You had better start running."

"But Anya... you must been part of the plot --"

"No, I was not. I do not care about your Anya, Georgi. _Run_ ," Viktor hisses, his eyes flashing. 

Georgi lets out a ragged shout and throws the magic at Viktor, which causes lightning to rain down from the sky, setting fire to the ground. Viktor rolls his eyes, then blurs out of sight and appears in front of Georgi, grabbing him and throwing him several feet across the field. Georgi yelps when he hits the ground, then scrambles up. He summons a ball of fire in his hands and slams it into the ground, a thin line of fire racing across the ground toward Viktor.

Viktor vanishes before the fire can reach him, the ground exploding where he stood. He hears a cry of shock from the trees, and Yuuri stumbles out, to Viktor's horror.

"Viktor!" Yuuri calls, his voice high with anxiety. Georgi starts to turn his head, his face lighting up with cruelty, and Viktor's expressions fade to null.

He blurs and appears in front of Georgi. "Do not touch him."

"I will save him from you," Georgi says, his eyes crazed. "Even if you did not turn Anya, you are an abomination. He will thank me when you are dead!"

Viktor hears the cock of a gun, and he steps back quickly, seconds before a bullet flies past Georgi, who jerks back in shock. They both turn to find Yuuri glaring at them furiously, gun pointed at Georgi.

"Don't cast any more spells, Georgi Popovich. You've broken sanctuary law."

"Do not be taken in by this monster's lies!" Georgi shouts, sweeping an arm toward Viktor. "I only did what was necessary! Surely you agree!"

"Oh?" Yuuri says coolly, his eyes narrowing. "The people who created the sanctuary laws might not agree. You have heard of the Fujiwara clan, right? They have the right to intercede here. They won't like it if you piss me off."

Viktor raises his eyebrows at _that_ name falling from Yuuri's lips, a realization catching him a second later. Georgi's eyes go wide, before he stumbles back and takes off running. Viktor turns to see Georgi flee for the trees, believing the cover of the forest to be more protective than the open space around him.

A shadow at the treeline shifts, and at the same time Georgi nears the bank of the river, Makkachin hops out of a shadow and snarls at him. Georgi screams in fright and trips, tumbling down the hill into the river. A splash follows his dramatic escape, followed by a groan.

Viktor smiles and crosses the meadow to Makkachin, who turns to pant happily at him, her tail wagging. He sees several vampires and witches step out of the trees, some of them hurrying to the river, others going to put out the fires from Georgi's lightning.

"Viktor!" Yuuri comes running and skids to a halt beside Viktor, staring down at the river in shock. "Is... is he dead?"

"Of course not," Viktor scoffs, glancing down at the dark waters, where he can see a shape bobbing in the water downstream. Already, several vampires are moving to fish Georgi from the river. "A little water cannot defeat a witch. Still, I am relieved I did not get any blood on my suit. It is my favorite, you see," he tells Yuuri, who stares at him blankly, then rolls his eyes.

"Viktor," Yuuri starts, then gives up. "Never mind. I can't believe you got him to admit everything. I guess they won't let him get away now."

"No, not at all. Whatever happens to him is up to the Council and his coven, or whatever remains of it." Viktor shrugs gracefully, then wraps an arm around Yuuri's waist and smiles down at him. "Sara and Mila will handle it from here. Shall we return home, my dear? I want to celebrate."

"Okay," Yuuri says quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. Viktor is simply glad that he did not get hurt in the fight, for all that the confrontation could be called such. As rewarding as it might have felt to destroy Georgi in battle, Viktor is pleased by the outcome.

He cannot believe that the witch was Georgi, and that the only reason he was here, hurting humans and vampires, was to get revenge for something Viktor didn't even do. He knows his memory can be faulty at times, but Viktor is certain that he never changed Georgi's lover of that time. The Plisetsky family are his only descendants. 

Viktor whistles for Makkachin, then escorts Yuuri to a shadow behind a tree and walks through it, appearing on the other side at his front door. He lets Yuuri and Makkachin inside, then follows, firmly closing the door behind them. He snaps his finger, and a fire lights up in the fireplace, blazing heat into the cold house. Vicchan bounds down the stairs, going to greet his master before nosing happily at Makkachin. The two of them trot off to parts unknown, leaving Viktor alone with Yuuri.

Yuuri takes off his jacket, laying it over the back of the couch as he watches Viktor. He looks soft in the firelight, his eyes dark and heated. Viktor shares a small smile with him, absently sliding off his own jacket and neatly hanging it over a chair, before he focuses completely on Yuuri.

Viktor walks to the center of the room, where a plush rug sits in front of the fireplace. He picks up his remote to his music system, pressing one of the buttons to start a soft _duetto_ of violin and piano, then holds his hand out to Yuuri.

"May I have this dance, Yuuri?"

Yuuri flushes but smiles at him, then reaches out to take his hand, stepping close to him and winding his arm around Viktor's back. Viktor leads him into a dance, sighing as Yuuri fits against him so perfectly, loving the way he moves.

Now that the witch, or Georgi as Viktor knows him now, has been defeated, Viktor wonders what his next step should be. He finds himself unwilling to return to the Council and their boring methods of dealing with rogues. He wants something new in his life, something exciting and surprising, and he believes he has found it in the person in his arms. Viktor smiles a little, sliding one hand down Yuuri's slim back, tracing his spine beneath his shirt.

"I find it interesting that you would threaten that witch with the founding family of the sanctuary laws," Viktor murmurs, smiling a little when Yuuri's breath hitches.

"Well, um, it seemed to be the right thing to do, you know... I mean, they can come to any city with sanctuary laws to eradicate the problem... if it's not resolved by other means..."

Viktor laughs softly and kisses Yuuri's temple. "You would not call them here, though. Not while I am here."

Yuuri leans into him, mumbling into Viktor's shoulder. "No... then they'd kill you. And I don't want that."

Viktor smiles, closing his eyes as they dance. He will have the truth from Yuuri someday about his ties with the Fujiwara clan. For now, he is not worried about that family hunting him, since he has kindly abided by the rule they gave him when they ran him out of Japan. Even feeding on Yuuri in a willing, legally binding agreement does not break their rules. Turning a Fujiwara son into a vampire might get him in real trouble... but Yuuri is worth it. Viktor will deal with that problem later.

"I liked watching you tonight," Yuuri whispers. Viktor glances down at him, noticing a little blush on his face. "Seeing you so powerful and strong... I really liked it. You were so cool, Viktor."

"Did you like that, Yuuri? Did you like seeing me pick someone up and throw them? I could pick you up just the same way," Viktor teases, enjoying the way Yuuri stiffens, his heart beating faster with excitement.

"It was just..." Yuuri hesitates, then pulls away from Viktor mid-dance and leans up to kiss him firmly. He gives Viktor a challenging stare before closing his eyes, daringly sliding his tongue along Viktor's lip. 

Viktor meets Yuuri's passion without faltering. He moves both hands to Yuuri's back and slides down to his legs, hooking beneath them and urging Yuuri to lift up. Yuuri hesitates briefly, then jumps up, and Viktor catches him, easily holding Yuuri up as Yuuri winds his long legs around Viktor's waist. Yuuri moans at the feeling of being held so easily, and Viktor smiles into their kiss, before he slides his tongue deep into Yuuri's mouth.

He feels Yuuri's building arousal, his body heating up quickly, growing with their lust for each other. Yet the feeling isn't merely lust, but also the love Viktor can admit he feels for Yuuri, and that Yuuri feels for him. Their shared passion, their shared emotions -- Viktor would not want to give this up for the world.

Whatever happens after this, he will not leave Yuuri. If he must stay in Detroit to have him, he will. If Yuuri wishes to follow him to the rest of the world, then Viktor will rejoice -- but he will accept no future without this person beside him.

"Viktor, bed," Yuuri gasps when Viktor pulls away, licking their shared taste from his lips. Viktor flashes him a half-lidded smile, then slides down to his knees, laying Yuuri down on the rug and gazing down at him in wondrous awe.

"I want to see you like this," Viktor whispers. "Here we have the light shining on you, yet your brilliance outshines it, my love."

Yuuri blushes, and it is true; he nearly glows in the firelight, his beautiful eyes deep and wide as he stares up at Viktor. Leaning back on his knees, Viktor slides off his gloves one at a time, tossing them aside without care for once.

"Here is fine," Yuuri whispers. Viktor smiles softly and leans down to reward him with another kiss.

He takes his time removing their clothes, peeling each layer off Yuuri as if unwrapping a delicate present. He follows every touch with a kiss, marking Yuuri's pale skin with little bruises, nips of his teeth and teasing brushes of his tongue. By the time Viktor has Yuuri naked beneath him, Yuuri is impatient, panting softly as his body flushes with arousal. 

Yuuri is slightly more hurried as he strips Viktor, pushing his clothes off him until Viktor sits nude in front of him, just as aroused as his human lover. Viktor leaves him only briefly to fetch a bottle of lubricant from a hidden cache near the couch, then kneels between Yuuri's legs once more, coating his fingers liberally.

"On your knees, my love," Viktor whispers. Yuuri turns bright red, giving Viktor an intense look before shifting and turning around, sitting up on his knees with his legs spread. Viktor gently eases him back to lean against his shoulder, while he reaches between Yuuri's legs with his other hand.

Yuuri is hot inside, just as hot as the first time Viktor ever touched him here. He gives a little moan as Viktor presses two fingers into him slowly, then suddenly goes stiff when Viktor reaches around him to fist his aching sex, slowly pumping him. Yuuri's hands fly up to grab onto Viktor's wrists, but Viktor shakes his head.

"Up here, my love." Yuuri glances over his shoulder, biting his bottom lip, then nods and reaches up to wind his arms around Viktor's neck, shuddering as he relaxes against Viktor.

"I can't touch?" Yuuri whispers. Viktor smiles and kisses his neck, then parts his lips to suck another mark to Yuuri's soft, delicate skin.

"No, Yuuri. I want to see you lose all sense of yourself like this, at just my touch. How quickly can I bring you to orgasm? You are already trembling from your need for me."

"It's too much," Yuuri gasps, rocking up into Viktor's hand, then twitching back to take Viktor's fingers deeper. "I just want to be with you. Please, Viktor..."

"Vitenka. Surely you can call me that, by now," Viktor whispers, his heart aching briefly. He has never allowed a lover to call him that before, but with Yuuri, the nickname feels _right._

Yuuri glances over his shoulder again, meeting Viktor's eyes. "Vitenka..."

Viktor breathes in shakily, his body pulsing with heat at the intimate word. "Yuuri, my love, my light, _my little sun,_ " he whispers, his babbling slipping into Russian, which makes a heady shiver run through Yuuri. Viktor adds another finger, spreading them wide inside Yuuri, listening to the way he moans.

"Vi...Vitenka, please, I need you inside me," Yuuri whines, pushing back with his hips against Viktor's cock. 

"No, my love. This is a reward for being so good today. You could have been hurt, and you were not. You were very good for me."

Yuuri lets out a noise, then rocks teasingly against him, trying to tempt him into going further. Viktor growls low in his throat, letting go of Yuuri briefly to grab his hip and push him down. Yuuri yelps, landing on his hands and knees, and Viktor digs his fingers in deeper, earning another cry.

"You test me, my love," Viktor mutters, secretly enthralled by Yuuri's shameless behavior. "No, I will make love to you when I am ready. You will be patient."

"But Vitenka," Yuuri whimpers, then gasps as Viktor takes hold of his cock again, thrusting into his hand. Viktor is ruthless as he pleasures Yuuri, his movements slow and steady. He takes his time fingering Yuuri, stretching his slick opening thoroughly, as well as paying particular attention to Yuuri's prostate, leaving him a trembling, moaning mess.

When Viktor leans down to drag his tongue up Yuuri's spine, Yuuri descends into wracking shudders, his seed spilling over Viktor's hand. Viktor rubs his prostate firmly as Yuuri comes, watching him come undone with something like awe.

As Yuuri sinks to the floor, his legs spread lewdly on either side of Viktor's knees, Viktor lets him go and reaches down to his aching, neglected cock, groaning as he slicks himself up.

"Are you ready, my love?" Viktor asks, pressing the head of his cock against Yuuri's entrance. Yuuri lets out a weak moan and spreads his legs further.

"In me, please!"

"Good... you are so good, Yuuri," Viktor groans, laying his hands on Yuuri's hips and pulling them up, before guiding himself inside. He bows over Yuuri's back as his cock is enveloped in slick heat, listening to the way Yuuri pants and whimpers, watching Yuuri's long fingers twist in the thick rug. He looks so good like that, stretched around Viktor's cock, taking it so well.

He begins to thrust slowly, carefully sliding deeper and deeper with every movement. Yuuri keens, calling out Viktor's name as Viktor's thrusts make him slide along the rug, which is becoming slippery with their sweat. Viktor listens to those sweet cries in a dim sort of haze, lost in his own determination to pleasure Yuuri.

Despite the urge to press harder, Viktor remains gentle, wanting this to be about Yuuri. He wants to overwhelm Yuuri, to lift him to the greatest heights of pleasure, and then bring him back down gently, to take him apart and put him together again so perfectly that Yuuri only knows his love alone. He does not want to think of the other lovers in Yuuri's past who may have touched him, held him -- he wants to be Yuuri's past, present, and future.

Perhaps Viktor is possessive -- but Yuuri is the first person he has wanted to hold onto in centuries. Yuuri has told him, in just as bold words, that he feels the same. What else can Viktor do but worship him?

After a little while, Viktor decides to give Yuuri what he deserves, beginning to thrust harder, sliding so deeply into him that Yuuri's cries rattle the windows. He lifts an eyebrow when he sees Yuuri reaching out, digging his fingers into the rug as if to pull himself away, and he gently reaches down to take Yuuri's wrist in his hand, pulling him back and slowing his thrusts.

"Darling, do you really wish to escape? For me to stop?" Viktor asks softly, waiting until Yuuri turns his head.

"N-no, I want... I need..." Yuuri cannot seem to express himself, but Viktor reads his desire in his eyes, and he smiles, sliding almost all the way out of Yuuri.

"Of course, my love. Let me reward you for being so good for me..."

Viktor wraps an arm around Yuuri and pulls him up, allowing Yuuri lean back against him, which lets him sink back down on his cock. Yuuri cries out and trembles against Viktor, reaching up to grip Viktor's arm tightly.

"Please, Vitenka," Yuuri whimpers, squirming on Viktor's cock, as if he needs more. Viktor knows he does, but he also knows that Yuuri needs something else. Viktor turns his face into Yuuri's neck, breathing in his scent, and Yuuri gasps softly when he realizes what Viktor intends to do.

" _Yes,_ Vitenka, do it," Yuuri begs.

Viktor cannot help but obey, parting his lips and sliding his fangs deep into Yuuri's skin, just as he begins to move his hips again. Yuuri goes stiff against him, arching as pleasure overwhelms his entire body, while Viktor takes what Yuuri so willingly offers. He drinks deeply, moaning low in his throat at the sweet, delicious taste, unable to stop himself from thrusting hard into Yuuri at the same time.

Yuuri screams his name and comes again, spilling over his stomach and thighs, choking out Viktor's name. Viktor growls low in his throat, _loving_ how his name sounds on Yuuri's lips, how perfectly he tastes. He drinks deeply until Yuuri begins to sag against him, his grip waning on Viktor's arm. Viktor takes his fangs out, licking the tiny wounds to heal them, while longingly thinking of finishing his drink and changing Yuuri properly.

Someday. He can wait until the right time.

Viktor gently eases Yuuri back down to the rug, then lays his hands on Yuuri's hips once more and begins to take him in earnest, thrusting deep into him with every movement. Yuuri screams once more, though softer, his legs spread as far as they can, letting Viktor go as deep as possible, hitting his prostate every time. He sinks into Yuuri one more time with a deep groan of Yuuri's name, spilling his seed inside Yuuri, coming for an unnaturally long time until, at last, he begins to feel himself soften.

When Viktor slides out, Yuuri is barely coherent. Viktor gently gathers him in his arms and carries him upstairs, drawing a warm bath of golden bubbles for Yuuri. He gently cleans Yuuri's body off, letting Yuuri relax and drift in his arms in the gentle bath. Viktor spends a long time telling Yuuri how good he was, how much his submission pleased him, how well he did in the forest -- and how much he loves him. 

"I love you, too," Yuuri mumbles into his shoulder. 

Viktor's breath catches in his throat; he has felt love before, has even heard the words, but in this intimacy, with Yuuri's blood in his veins, the emotion feels far more real than ever before. He pulls Yuuri closer in response, unable to resist dropping the words into Yuuri's hair, just a soft exhalation of his true feelings.

"My love..."

After Yuuri falls asleep, Viktor reclines against the side of the tub, holding Yuuri close as he breathes in his scent. In his body burns Yuuri's lifeforce, the one thing in the world that Viktor holds sacred.

He closes his eyes with a smile. This is a life he could love, very easily. Yuuri and his life, his love -- Viktor needs them both, and Yuuri needs him, too.

He is ready.

~*~

_One year later..._

In another part of the world, a tall man with long, shining hair neatly tied back with a gold ribbon tips his head up to smile at a server as she sets two cups of coffee at his elbow. "Thank you, love," murmurs Viktor Nikiforov, winking at the girl and watching her smile. She bows her head a little, then returns to the server's station to whisper to one of her coworkers, who glances at Viktor and his companions with wide eyes.

At his feet lies a large standard poodle with soft brown curls and warm brown eyes, as well as a smaller poodle of darker brown, both asleep. Vicchan's curls are starting to turn to black, a sign that Makkachin's magic is changing him properly, and it gives him a sweet look.

Viktor lifts his cup, admiring the little heart-shaped art the server left in the foam, and sips slowly, turning his eyes to the Parisian skyline, darkened with night. A storm has passed the city already, heading east, leaving the streets shining under street lights and signs, with mist curling just above the cobbled stone. Viktor sets down his cup after a moment and looks to his other companion, smiling adoringly.

Yuuri stands at the railing that looks over the streets below the cafe, his eyes wide with awe at the new sights and scents of a city he has never visited before. He is wearing a tidy vest over a button-up shirt, tucked neatly into gray slacks, though he does not care for wearing ties every day like Viktor does. At least Yuuri finally gave in and allowed Viktor to dress him properly, though Viktor knows that Yuuri keeps a few drawers full of his awful sweatshirts and more 'comfortable' clothing. Viktor doesn't mind, because he wants Yuuri to be happy.

Yuuri notices his attention and turns to smile at him. His eyes are violet, and he grins, revealing sharp fangs.

"Vitenka, it's beautiful here! You should take me sightseeing," Yuuri says, leaving the railing and sitting down in the chair opposite Viktor, who slides the second coffee over. Yuuri admires the art, a second heart, and picks it up to enjoy, sighing at the subtle flavors.

"I will take you wherever you wish to go, my love," Viktor says softly. Yuuri's eyes will stay violet for a few years, until the newness of the change fades and his normal eye color returns. Viktor suspects they will always look red, though, because Yuuri's original eye color was so close to the hue. He smiles at the thought, and Yuuri smiles back at him, not understanding what he is thinking about, but pleased with Viktor's agreement.

"Good. Can we go now? I want to go everywhere!"

"Let us finish our coffee, Yuuri," Viktor says, almost beaming with how happy he is. He has everything he could have ever wanted sitting right in front of him. "We have all of eternity now."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


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